


Of Cat Ears, Tails and Matching Souls

by GizmoTrinket



Series: A Tale Involving Tails [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Biphobia, Bisexual Stephen Strange, Bisexual Tony Stark, Biting, Cat/Human Hybrids, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iron Man 1, Iron Man 2, Light Stalking, M/M, Marking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nobody is perfect, POV Alternating, POV Stephen Strange, POV Tony Stark, Possessive Behavior, Referenced Bullying, Scents & Smells, Slurs, Soul Bond, Switch Stephen Strange, Switch Tony Stark, Tony's Guilt Complex - Freeform, Torture, Unreliable Narrator, anthropomorphic stephen strange, anthropomorphic tony stark, avengers movie - Freeform, but don't worry he gets over himself, doctor strange movie, graphic description of medical procedure, reference to don't ask don't tell, referenced eugenics, referenced sex slavery, seriously... he's unbarable before the accident, stephen's giant ego, strictly because of the pov, technically soul match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-05-28 11:31:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19393249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GizmoTrinket/pseuds/GizmoTrinket
Summary: Maria Stark had a son.She had a son with cat ears and a tail.He had a mop of dark hair with a fine fluffy texture. The same… fur... was covering his ears and his tail. He cried and she fell in love with him. Yes, he was different, impossible even. That just made him all the more special.A tale involving tails, a self-sacrificing futurist, and a misguided doctor.





	1. Prologue - Tony

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first fic in this fandom. Please heed the tags. If you need something tagged please leave a comment and I’ll add it asap. Otherwise, criticism—constructive or otherwise—is not welcome. I’ve written the entire fic and will be posting each chapter after editing.
> 
> If you can beta for me please comment.
> 
> I can move this to a different pseudonym if requested. I have one made up: TonySlashHappiness :P I'm not abandoning my Sherlock fics, I just had a very special request and this happened.
> 
> **Warning:** Characters in this story are human. They aren’t perfect and pretty much everything you’ll read here is semi-problematic at best. This fic would be rated M without the explicit sex and is only meant for adults.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the brilliant [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine)

No one knew why it happened.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The public didn’t know why it happened. SHIELD knew (of course they did, it was their fault).

At a secret government base hidden in a fake munitions bunker, an experiment went wrong. A burst of energy spread in an unknown radius, unhindered by anything man-made or natural. People panicked, unsure what the effects would be. The cat that spilled the chemicals on HYDRA’s cube was fine and no humans seemed affected in any way that they could measure. Everyone’s bloodwork was normal and after a month they reluctantly lifted the quarantine.

Howard Stark finally got to go home to his wife and after a fight over his work hours, they conceived a child that would change the world.

***

Maria Stark couldn’t find her husband but that was the least of her worries at the moment. Not only was she used to her husband’s work ethic, she was in too much pain to do more than curse him for taking Jarvis. She called an ambulance, not having anyone else in the house to drive her to the hospital.

The baby was coming.

After twelve hours of labor, she gave one last push and cried in relief when the pressure abated. She waited in an exhausted haze to hear the baby cry and for the doctor to tell her if she had a son or a daughter.

A feeble wail was heard over the nurses’ hushed panic. Distantly Maria knew something was wrong but when she asked she didn’t get an answer. It was Howard, marching in and causing a scene, that alerted her to the problem.

The baby was passed to her while her husband raged.

She had a son.

She had a son with cat ears and a tail.

He had a mop of dark hair with a fine fluffy texture. The same… fur... was covering his ears and his tail. He cried and she fell in love with him. Yes, he was different, impossible even. That just made him all the more special.

“Fix it,” Howard ordered the doctor.

“We don’t know how,” the doctor said, trying to calm him down. “We’ve never seen this before. If we do something wrong he could end up deaf or paralyzed or worse.”

“I don’t care! I’m not having a freak for an heir!”

“Howard!” Maria snapped. She was exhausted, sore, scared and furious. She knew that this... whatever it was... was his fault. He never talked about his work but she knew it was experimental. She wasn’t going to let him mutilate her son in a quest to make him normal. For one, it would never work. He didn’t have ears on the side of his face like they did and that wasn’t something that could be hidden. Yes, he was going to be bullied and discriminated because of how he was born but she knew that would happen either way and not being able to hear or walk would only make things more difficult.

They fought as they’d never fought before. They screamed, threw things and threatened one another while the baby pressed against Maria’s chest wailed—she wouldn’t risk letting him out of her sight and being stolen for experimentation.

It was the first fight of many but Maria always won. More children were born with the same oddities over the years and it was clear that something had happened on a military base in New Jersey.

Surgeries on the affected proved ineffective. The first children were indeed rendered deaf or paralyzed or both. Techniques improved over the years but at best the children were left with hearing or balance problems and, it was discovered later, sterilized without the parent’s knowledge.

Maria was vigilant and, although Tony had a rough childhood caused by not only his peers but his father’s emotional and physical abuse, he survived relatively unscathed until her untimely death in a car crash.

She and her husband’s death were widely speculated as covered up murder and it was the final push needed to pass the bills Maria championed giving cat people the same rights as everyone else. Jarvis handled the legal things needed to ensure Tony inherited the trust that held the company and estates but he was taken too only a year after the accident.

Tony was finally allowed into MIT but the enthusiasm he’d had when he first submitted his application was tainted.

His new peers were eager to welcome him into their lives but Tony found they were more interested in his notes and ideas than him as a person. They also welcomed him into their beds and Tony found physical comfort with both male and, less often, female partners (as it was discovered that cat people almost always passed on the genes—he had no desire to pass his condition on and force a child to live through his torture) until he learned that he was being used as bragging rights.

Rhodey was his only friend and Tony appreciated him more than he could say. He’d perfected the mask, acting the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist his dad wanted him to be in public while secretly longing for the security of an empty workshop. He filled the void with work, fast cars, robots and JARVIS, relying on the only other people he trusted, Pepper, Happy and Obadiah to pick up the slack.

It was more than he’d ever thought he’d have. Sprinkle in a bed warmer every now and then and it was enough.


	2. Becoming Iron Man - Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Man I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take some liberties with the timeline and ages here. It’s an au, I can do what I want. :P
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine). I changed some things around before I posted (because I like to fiddle with stuff I shouldn't) so any mistakes are my own.

Rhodey distanced himself as Tony’s exploits became more interesting to the public. Tony had taken over his father’s company and though the military was happy to ignore his tastes in bedmates for his weapons, Rhodey was actually a member of the military. He couldn’t afford the rumors. It hurt more than Tony would admit and he worked harder to only be seen with women and encouraged the tabloids printing stories that made him seem insatiable for the opposite sex. After all, most people didn’t believe in bisexuality and it was easy enough to take advantage of that. It escalated to downright slander and Tony knew he’d only slept with less than a tenth of the women everyone said he did but he allowed it so that he could spend more time with his friend.

It worked and Rhodey’s career took off. Tony, not wanting to jeopardize Rhodey’s position, distanced himself even further. With each promotion, there was more at risk. It frustrated them both that they couldn’t be alone, that they couldn’t be seen without women around, that they couldn’t take a flight without Tony hiring strippers as entertainment, that they couldn’t be close like they once were. But, that was life in 2008. It could have been worse, LGBT rights were better than ever.

***

Tony didn’t allow Rhodey to ride with him back to the base after his weapons demonstration. He knew the young men would want to talk about his exploits and that Rhodey would discourage that. He wanted to spread as many rumors as he could while he was here.

And then the convoy was attacked.

***

Tony screamed as his chest was ripped apart. He watched the men standing over him occasionally covering his mouth with a damp rag reeking of ether, bringing sweet relief that didn’t last. He didn’t understand what was happening. His superior sense of smell was overwhelmed by blood, body odor and disinfectant. His hearing was dulled and he didn’t understand the words being spoken anyway. He was held in place, unable to escape. When he wasn’t delirious with pain he was terrified.

When he woke he was in agony. There was a pressure in his chest. He pulled the tube from his nose first, the sensation of rubber sliding through his sinuses and along the back of his throat set his teeth on edge and made him gag. When it was gone he didn’t feel such as violated as before and he acknowledged the cold. He tried to reach for water but his hands didn’t work right. He knocked over the glass and noticed a man, shaving in a foggy mirror. He froze, wondering if he was going to be tortured. The man ignored him so he tried for the canteen. He was parched and weak and desperate.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man said.

Tony got caught, something pulled on his chest and he held in a screech of agony. It was a battery, the wires connected to his chest. He ripped the filthy bandages away to see metal embedded in his chest. He remembered the surgery, watching as he was torn apart and his bones lifted away.

He couldn’t breathe, he thought he was going to die as his mind raced. He felt sick. It was something out of a horror movie. He tried to pull himself together as fast as he could. He couldn’t dwell on his non-consensual body modifications right now, he had bigger problems.

When the panic passed he drank, distantly wondering how much blood he had to replace and why they had done this to him.

The man told him about what had happened and he remembered the bomb. The “Stark Industries” logo embedded on the side of it. He’d invented it, he knew it inside and out and he knew he was a dead man. More of his weapons were in the hands of his captors.

He wasn’t going to build them weapons. They tortured him, pulling on his ears and tail. They held his head underwater, causing the leads of the battery and metal in his chest to electrocute him. The solution came to him then but it was too big of a risk. He coughed, trying to clear his lungs but they pushed his head back under before he could get a breath in.

Too soon, they came with a knife and sliced into his ear. He said what they wanted to hear and decided to do his best to get out. Help wasn’t going to come.

***

He touched his ear and felt the stitches clinging to one side. Blood trickled in and drove him mad as he saw the cache the terrorists had.

Yinsen had stitched his ear but Tony knew the sensitive organ wouldn’t ever be the same. He tried to be grateful that it was at least still attached and ignore the way it pulled on his scalp and flopped around as he built his ticket to freedom.

Tony was determined. He wasn’t going to die here and he wasn’t going to let them kill Yinsen. He was Tony freaking Stark and he was going to fix this.

***

Yinsen died but the terrorists did too. The suit had broken his tail—it had gotten pinched in a joint—but the weapons were gone and, against all odds, he lived.

He cried when Rhodey found him and didn’t fight when he pulled him into a hug. He held his friend in his embrace until they were pulled apart and didn’t let him out of his sight as they patched him up on the base. His tail was set and bandaged and all of his small injuries were sorted. He needed surgeries to fix his ear, take out the shrapnel that littered his entire body and remove the arc reactor, none of which could be done out here. Tony was fine with that. He couldn’t take any risks until he fixed his company.

***

The cheeseburger was the best thing he’d ever eaten and he took it as a good omen to give the press conference that caused the reporters to nearly combust. Tony wanted to sit but his tail ached. He stood as he delivered the words that had been running through his head, and later saw the photos. Looking at his ear made him sick so he avoided the news and mirrors.

He’d hated his ears and tail as long as he could remember. He was already different, the son of the great Howard Stark. He was the first cat person ever born (that had been discovered later—his parents had successfully hidden him away for years). No matter how brilliant he was it was never enough. Not for his dad or for anyone else. They always wanted more from him while at the same time praising him for overcoming his “disability.”

That was the last thing his cat-like features were. He had faster reflexes, better balance, hearing, and sense of smell. His fangs were great for defense and his slightly rough tongue made sex intriguing for his partners. He was, with his intelligence, better than everyone else.

Without noticing, he’d accepted the feline part of himself, and now he was damaged. He could have the surgeries to remove his ears and tail, get rid of the things that made people stare, that other children had pulled on and shut in doors. But all he wanted was them fixed. He hadn’t realized it until now how important they’d become to him. Being a mouser, a pussy, a kitten, a tom—all the derogatory names his people were called throughout the years—made him who he was.

“Are you going to see a doctor now?” Pepper asked, pleading with him to be reasonable.

“Not until the company is sorted,” he replied, just as he had every other time she’d asked.

“Don’t you want your ear to be healed? Doesn’t it hurt?”

 _More than you know_ , he thought. “It’s been three months, Ms. Potts. Waiting another three won’t make a difference.”

She took the formal address for the dismissal it was.

***

“Oh my god, is that the thing that’s been keeping you alive?” Pepper gasped as she entered the workshop.

Tony convinced her to help him. And, to her credit, she didn’t refuse, tell him to see a doctor or make a huge fuss. She did pull out the electromagnet—putting him at risk if the reactor was damaged. But that wasn’t a big deal. His new model wouldn’t ever need to be replaced.

He wanted her to know how important she was to him, just in case, and she understood. She smiled and Tony felt something lurch in his chest that had nothing to do with the reactor replacement.

***

Rhodey didn’t laugh at Tony’s joke when they next saw each other after the press conference. Tony had thought it would be recognized for the olive branch it was, but it must have backfired. Admittedly, telling a joke about the crossdresser Rhodey had hooked him up with, that he’d taken to bed and had drunkenly staggered into Rhodey’s double after a trip to the bathroom might have been in poor taste. It left Rhodey tense and defensive. He didn’t want to listen to anything Tony had to say.

When it turned out that Tony’s project wasn’t a weapon for the military, he wanted nothing to do with it. He spat the word “humanitarian” at Tony as if it were a slur. Tony was shocked. Was this really how everyone saw him? He just wanted to help people. He wanted to keep Americans safe by giving them an edge when they went to war, he wanted to feed people as the population grew and he wanted to solve the energy crisis.

Perhaps he was just as evil as everyone thought he was. He hadn’t taken the nickname “Merchant of Death” seriously even though it was more than apt. Maybe his time in those caves changed him, making him the person he’d always wanted to be.

“What you need is time to get your mind right.”

Tony snorted. He’d never been more “right” than he was at this moment.

“It was nice seeing you, Tony,” Rhodey said and turned on his heel.

“Thanks,” Tony mumbled. Rhodey had put things into perspective. It made his mission clear and it more important than ever.

***

Mark II would help him fix things.

Unfortunately, it also helped him get new and exciting injuries to hide from Pepper. Being slammed into walls and blasted across the room hurt, but it was all worth it when he took flight. He shouted in joy and decided to try and break an altitude record.

The thrill he got when he broke the ice and lived was ruined by his landing. Did it have to be the piano and _that_ car?

JARVIS didn’t think he had a concussion so that was something, at least.

His tail threw off his balance when it was trapped next to his leg but that would be an easy fix. A few calculations and the appendage would give him more control over his turns. More important were the materials.

Mark III would be flashy, ostentatious some might say, but Tony was thrilled. It suited him (no pun intended).

A news station reminded him that he had other things to attend to. A photo of him at his press conference, ear hanging limply, made him wince. Again, PTSD was brought up and Tony thought it was time to put those rumors to bed.

***

Pepper was beautiful, smart, trustworthy—everything he wanted in a partner. She didn’t smell quite right, if he were more human he wouldn’t have noticed and he might have made a move on her long ago, but it hardly mattered. He was a man of intellect and, as Yinsen said, a man who had everything and nothing. Perhaps it was time to change that.

No one was perfect. He’d been with plenty of people who smelled delicious but that he couldn’t stand. Pepper was a smart match and he liked her. He liked her a lot.

He danced with her and was happy with the way they moved together. She towered over him with her heels, one of the drawbacks of being a cat person was that they tended to be shorter than average. Thankfully, Tony wasn’t one to get hung up on traditional masculinity nonsense (at least not in his head, dear old Dad had drilled it into his public persona). Being short was the least of his problems.

***

The fact was reinforced when the reporter confronted him with photographs. Yinsen’s town, besieged by terrorists.

Obadiah had crossed a line never meant to be crossed.

***

As Obadiah held a wicked device to his intact ear, Tony thought that perhaps it would have been better if he’d been deafened after all. Stane would have had to find another way to incapacitate him and he wouldn’t have to watch, unable to move, as his mentor—his surrogate father—ripped out his heart.

Tony didn’t want to kill him. Not like he had wanted to kill the terrorists in Gulmira. So, when the time came, he had Pepper pull the trigger. He could have killed Obidiah while his suit was iced up but he hadn’t. It was a mistake that almost got everyone killed. Thankfully, Pepper didn’t seem distressed that she’d done it.

That was the second time she’d saved him, the first being her sentimental gift sitting in his chest while he fought.

Another two points in her favor.

At his next press conference, he tried making a move again but was gently rebuffed. He didn’t take it personally, leaving her on that roof had been a dick move. He was nothing if not tenacious. There was something there. Something simmered between them. He’d chip away at her wall until either it caved or she made it clear his advances were unwanted. Pepper was more than able to keep him in line with a single look. She’d make it clear if she wanted him to stop and he’d respect that if that’s the way it went. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

***

As Tony looked over the cards he'd been provided, he realized that he wasn't going to read them. Happy was his bodyguard, he didn't need another one. Even though those weapons had been sold by Stane, it'd been his company, his name on each of them. It was time to take ownership.

"I am Iron Man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, the SS Pepperony will never set sail. (I still love you, Pepper. It'll all work out.)
> 
> ~~The pun was totally intended. I stick at least one into every story.~~


	3. A Strange Turn of Events - Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think the title sums up what's happening here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be some smut. Enjoy. :)  
> (Just keep in mind the first chapter's A/N where I said everything in here is problematic. It gets worse as we go on.)
> 
> Beta'd by [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine) but, as per usual, I changed a bunch of stuff so any mistakes are my own.

Pepper put her foot down after the press conference.

“I am Iron Man? I am Iron Man?! ARE YOU INSANE?!” she shouted.

Tony winced and flattened his good ear, trying to block out some of the noise. Her shrill voice was grating at best and was one of the many reasons why he tried to keep her happy.

She calmed down by herself before firmly telling him that he was going in for surgery.

“I’ve got an appointment lined up with some of the best doctors in the country. You are going to go, sit down, talk to them, and get everything fixed,” she said, tone bordering no arguments.

Tony’s good ear twitched in irritation. He’d left room in the top of his helmet for his ears but he’d misjudged just how much he moved within the suit when he was knocked around. He’d smashed his ear and while normally he was able to school the features that most gave away his emotions it was harder when they ached.

Pepper glared and Tony put up his hands in surrender. It was a waste of time. No doctor worth their salt would operate on him after they saw his bloodwork. He was living on borrowed time. It would be best for him to tell her that, so she could work with him to accomplish his goals before it was too late.

He opened his mouth to do so but the words didn’t come. He didn’t know how long he had, JARVIS had only just found the poison. He could fix it and she’d never know. She’d been so mad when she thought he was killing himself by wearing the suit she’d threatened to quit. What would happen when she learned that he was actually dying?

Resigned to his fate, he asked Pepper when he was leaving.

***

“Why did you set up a meeting with a neurologist about my ear?” Tony asked Pepper over the phone. He felt he was being paranoid and had tried to trust her, to put the thought aside, but it wouldn’t go away. He didn’t want anyone poking around in his brain.

“It’s not for your ear, it’s for your tail. Doctor Strange is experimenting with a new laminectomy procedure that should fix the kink from the break.”

“I don’t want experimental surgery, Pepper. I wasn’t a guinea pig when I was a child and I’m not one now.” Tony felt sick. He knew she couldn’t understand, not being a cat person herself, but she was smart enough to have known better.

“It’s not like that,” Pepper was quick to reassure him. “Dr. Strange is a cat person too. He’s the only doctor specifically tailoring surgeries for you guys.”

“Just because he’s one of us doesn’t mean he’s above using us. History is full of people selling their own for personal gain.”

“Look, I understand your concern, I really do. But I’ve thoroughly vetted him.”

Tony wasn’t swayed. “No. I’m not going to have it. Cancel the appointment.”

“No, Tony,” Pepper said just as stubbornly. “You are going to go to that appointment and hear him out. If you decide not to go through with it after, then that’s fine. But I’m not going to have you live with limited mobility out of pig-headedness.”

“My mobility is fine! And you’re calling me pig-headed with the way you’re behaving right now?”

Pepper ignored the last part of Tony’s statement. “You can’t lift your tail properly! It’s not fine.”

Tony ground his teeth together. Yes, ok, he couldn’t lift his tail. They’d set it at the military base but he hadn’t tended to it properly. He couldn’t move it the way he wanted and that had caused him to take the wing off one of Rhodey’s jets. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but he could compensate. It was unlikely to get him killed.

He remembered how he’d felt when he was at Obadiah's mercy, how helpless he felt, how scared he’d been. And then Stane threatened Pepper.

Who would the next threat be? (And there would be another threat—there was always another threat.) What if Tony failed because he didn’t have full mobility? It was extremely unlikely.

Still…

“Fine. I’ll meet him. But if I get the slightest hint that he’s not—”

Pepper cut him off, probably afraid that finishing his thought would make him change his mind. “That’s all I ask. Just one meeting.”

“Alright,” Tony said. Then he remembered the arc reactor and wondered why he’d put up such a fight in the first place. He wasn’t going to get the surgery even if this Doctor Strange was a god amongst men.

He hung up, fell back and threw his forearm over his eyes.

What was he doing?

***

“Doctor Strange will be seeing you soon,” the receptionist said, again.

Tony was standing, arms crossed, tapping his toe aggressively. No one made him wait. No one. People waited for him, not the other way around. And yes, he had been late to this appointment and there was some sick sort of justice in the doctor turning it around on him. And Tony might have been impressed with the man’s balls if he weren’t already angry about being here in the first place.

He knew every single hair on his tail was standing on end. Happy was wisely sitting in the far corner of the room, trying to stay out of the way.

 _Finally_ , someone came and led him back to an office.

The doctor was sitting behind a desk, nose buried in a medical journal, completely ignoring him.

Tony’s tail lashed behind him and knocked into a hat rack.

The noise made the man look up and Tony’s jaw dropped.

“What are you, twelve?” he blurted out.

The doctor narrowed his eyes and stood, towering over Tony from behind his desk. He was tall. Really tall. He might have been the tallest cat person Tony had ever seen. His eyes were narrowed but bright and his cheekbones high and sharp.

“Doctor Strange,” he said, sticking out a large hand with long thin fingers.

Tony had to make an effort to close his mouth.

“Tony Stark,” he said and took Strange’s hand.

They each took a seat on the opposite sides of the desk and Tony looked his doctor over. The longest sleek black fur Tony had ever seen was carefully combed around dark ears. The fur on the inside wasn’t black, it was white and there were stripes of white at Strange’s temples. He looked far too young to be going gray. He probably bleached it.

“How old are you?” Tony asked.

“Old enough,” Strange said. “Now, shall we get on with it?”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Strange’s hostility but waved his hand as if he wasn’t bothered by it.

He listened for the first minute. After that he just watched Strange’s mouth move. He had a plump bottom lip that was slightly out of balance with the top. But the top had a sharp cupid’s bow and both were pale pink, smooth and un-chapped with a slight gloss that came from him licking them. His fangs caught the light occasionally but didn’t otherwise stand out much. Strange’s skin was pale and the contrast between it and his dark fur on his head was striking.

Strange’s hands started moving as he spoke, he was excited by whatever he was saying, passionate. His eyes were wide and alight and Tony forced himself to listen.

“Studies reporting data on felis sapiens are lacking. The present study retrospectively analyzed the clinical data of two groups of patients who underwent a limited laminectomy and foraminal decompression with fixation and normal laminectomy with fixation to identify differences in neurological recovery. Obviously, I’m trying to do this without fixation which adds another layer of complexity...”

Tony knew a bit about medicine but he didn’t consider himself an expert by any means. And he was fairly certain even an expert wouldn’t be able to follow what was coming out of Strange’s mouth. He was tempted to let him keep talking, that voice wasn’t hard on the ears, but he knew if he didn’t make an effort Pepper wouldn’t believe he had come.

“Alright, Doogie Howser, that’s enough,” Tony said.

Strange’s face twisted in outrage and disbelief.

“What did you just call me?” He stood, leaning over the desk with his hands flat on the surface. “I’ll have you know that I’m thirty-three. I have grey hair for god sakes!”

Tony was hit with a concentrated wave of Strange’s scent. His mouth filled with saliva and he felt light-headed.

“What?” Strange asked, confused by the sudden change in Tony’s mood.

Tony could see the exact moment Strange caught his scent. His eyes widened and went dark, he swallowed thickly and stared.

They both waited, either for the other to make the first move or break the spell, neither wanting to make the decision. And with each breath, Tony’s head got foggier and foggier.

The tip of Strange’s tongue peeked out. Tony tracked the movement as it slid against the top lip, moistening it.

And he snapped.

Tony dove onto the desk, dug his fingers into the doctor’s lab coat and pressed their lips together.

Strange let out a choked sound, surprised for less than a second before returning the kiss with interest. He pulled back and Tony made a disgruntled noise, but he wasn’t stopping for good. He showed surprising athleticism by placing one hand on the desk and leaping over it. His body bent to one side and his legs together.

Tony stepped back with a gasp. God, that was the hottest thing he’d seen in a long time.

Strange took advantage of Tony being off balance. Large hands wrapped around Tony’s biceps and backed him into the door. Tony’s tail lashed, knocking the coat rack over. Neither of them heard the crash. Their lips were locked together. Biting at each other, licking, sucking, tongues sliding into each other’s mouths. Strange buried his fingers in the rough fur on top of Tony’s head and yanked, pulling his head up and to the side.

His other hand pressed the button on the doorknob, locking it and preventing any interruptions.

“Yes! Oh, god! Yes!” Tony gasped as Strange licked a long stripe up his neck. He bucked his hips forward, grinding his erection against the thigh trying to force his legs apart. Strange latched onto his neck, sucking a dark mark into the tan flesh as a reward.

Tony moaned, long and low.

“Yesss,” Strange hissed before pulling back and turning Tony around. He shoved Tony face-first against the door.

Feeling desperate Tony arched his back, pushing his ass out.

“Fuck,” Strange gasped. He dropped his hands to Tony’s trousers, not bothering with his belt or button, simply pulling his zipper down, plunging his hand inside Tony’s boxer briefs and freeing his erection. He pulled on it, the movements rough, not even saliva as lube.

Tony didn’t care. He pushed his hands against the door, trying to get some pressure off his chest.

“Oh, oh! I need—” Tony didn’t finish his sentence. He just let out a high-pitched whine.

Strange started rutting against Tony’s ass. His erection slotted between Tony’s cheeks and Tony whimpered. Why was he still wearing pants?! He wanted to move his hands, to drop them down to get the offending garments off but he couldn’t, not without his ever tender chest pressing against the door. Tony needed both arms to brace himself. Strange took hold of his fur again and yanked his head to the side again.

He licked and nipped along Tony’s neck, sucking marks into the skin as he went. He pushed Tony's open shirt collar aside with his nose.

Tony surrendered, letting Strange have his way with him and just holding on for the ride.

Someone was knocking against the door but neither of them cared. Tony’s testicles felt tight, heat pooled low in his belly.

Close, he was so close.

Strange’s grip around his cock tightened and he turned his wrist, twisting around the sensitive head.

A few more strokes and Tony tipped over the edge. He came, shooting pearly white strands against the door and, never one for being quiet, he cried out in ecstasy.

The knocking paused but Tony only distantly noticed. His orgasm was drawn out and he saw stars, unable to suck in a breath with his body locked up.

Then, sharp fangs dug into Tony’s neck. The last of his orgasm was ruined by pain. He sucked in a gasp before screaming. He felt blood drip down his neck, soak into his collar. The pain faded fast and although Stephen’s fangs were still embedded in his skin and, even though he’d just come, he felt his cock start to harden again.

Tony’s brain was offline. Sensation had overwhelmed him. He went limp. It was too much, not enough, he wanted more but worried he could take it.

Strange’s fangs pulled free and his weight disappeared.

Tony let out a quiet involuntary whimper. He didn’t want Strange gone.

“Oh, god. What have I done?” the doctor sounded horrified.

When Tony turned around, he saw Strange leaning heavily against his desk, eyes wide, mouth open in horror. Blood stained his lips and chin. Tony let his back fall against the door, having trouble supporting himself, his knees weak and body drained.

And desperately horny despite having just had the best orgasm of his entire life.

Tony didn’t care much if he topped or bottomed. Sex was sex and he hadn’t had anything in his ass in a long time. Strange hadn’t exactly seemed opposed either.

“Why are you stopping?!” Tony demanded loudly, though the words came out with more desperation then he’d liked.

The door rattled loudly but Tony ignored it.

“Get over here and take care of this!” Tony ordered and thrust his hands down, palms open, unabashedly framing his throbbing erection.

Strange showed no sign that he’d comply. The front of his pants weren’t tented. He was no longer aroused.

Then the door flew open, knocking Tony into the wall.

“Tony!” Happy stormed into the room. Behind him was Strange’s receptionist. They looked around and Happy pulled Tony to his feet. The receptionist was taking everything in with wide eyes.

“Are you ok?” Happy asked, hands stroking Tony’s body, checking him over for injuries.

The receptionist’s eyes were narrowed, staring at the blood on Strange’s lips. He wiped his mouth self-consciously.

Tony knew what this looked like and he knew what was at stake. The doctor might lose his license and face charges for assaulting a patient. It wasn’t right, it was Tony’s fault. He’d started it and he’d been an enthusiastic participant throughout.

He doubted that would matter to Strange’s bosses.

Tony’s reputation, however, could take the hit. Even at the worst Tony doubted he’d spend any time in jail. His lawyers could drag the case out, file injunction after injunction until the palladium killed him.

“Sorry, Doctor,” Tony said. “I took that too far.” He made a show of tucking himself away.

“What happened?” Happy asked.

“Something came over me. He bit me trying to fight me off.” A blatant lie. No one would believe it, there was plenty of evidence to the contrary. He was sure Happy and the receptionist had heard more than enough to know better.

Still, if he stuck to his story—and Strange kept his mouth shut—there was no case against the doctor. The hospital would keep an eye on him, but Tony had looked at his file, they wouldn’t get rid of such a talented surgeon unless they were pressed to. Sure, Strange was a cat person and he had less leeway than others in his field. But that could be played to his advantage. Being a minority and the victim, he had power enough to make the hospital bend to his terms. Discrimination lawsuits looked bad no matter the actual outcome. And with Tony Stark being involved, the case would be very high profile.

“Is that true?” the receptionist asked Strange, clearly not believing a word.

Strange met Tony’s gaze and held it. Tony tried to convey everything through his eyes, willing the doctor to do the smart thing and agree.

After what felt like a century, Strange nodded and said, “Yes.”

Thank god. Tony let out a sigh of relief.

“We need to call the police,” the receptionist said. She was glaring murderously at Tony.

“No,” Strange said.

All eyes went to him.

“The publicity alone would ruin my career. No one would take me seriously if this got out.”

That was a very good point. Tony was impressed by the doctor’s quick thinking.

Strange’s pale eyes narrowed at Tony but he knew there was no real hatred in them. He’d seen ex-lovers’ righteous anger before, believing that he’d taken advantage of them though he’d always been careful to only pick up sober partners in front of plenty of witnesses (aside from a few drug-fueled orgies at MIT— though he figured that showing up to an orgy and getting high was consent enough).

“Police reports are never going to be kept secret. This can’t leave this room. As long as Mr. Stark never sets foot in this hospital again, I’m willing to let it go.”

The receptionist clearly wasn’t happy.

“It didn’t get that far,” Strange said, comforting the woman.

“That’s more than fair,” Tony said, moving to the door. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” He was apologizing for starting it and for letting it go so far. He knew the doctor understood.

The receptionist moved away from him. If she’d been a cat person, her ears would have been back and she’d have hissed at him. As it was, if looks could kill he’d be dead and razed to ash.

Happy took his arm in a bruising grip and hissed angrily under his breath, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Tony knew the receptionist heard that and had seen his wince of pain.

Happy was forceful, jaw clenched in rage as he dragged Tony from the hospital. Tony was going along willingly but Happy didn’t let go. He pulled Tony off balance occasionally, grip never loosening.

After being practically thrown into the back of his car, Tony winced and massaged his arm. He made a show of it after Happy took his place in the driver’s seat, knowing that he was watching through the rearview mirror.

“What the hell? What the _hell_ , Tony?! Why did you do that?”

Tony frowned and looked out the window.

Happy pounded his fist against the steering wheel. “Why did you lie for him? And don’t bullshit me, I know you did. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“It was my fault,” Tony said.

“How could that be your fault? He assaulted you!”

“No, he didn’t!” Tony needed him to understand, it was important. “I started it. I wanted it. I would have kept after him if you hadn’t kicked the door in.”

“That’s not you. You’ve done a lot of horrible things in your life, Tony Stark but you’ve never been a rapist.”

“There was something about him. He smelled like…” Tony couldn’t describe it. “It was... I can’t explain.”

Happy wasn’t swayed.

“I needed him. I’ve never felt like that before. Never.” Tony shook his head. “He felt it too. I could tell. But he wasn’t going to act on it. I was the one who crossed the desk. I kissed him. I made the first move. And the only thing I regret was that we didn’t go further.”

“He bit you!”

“Yeah,” Tony touched the mark gingerly. “He did. And I liked it.”

“You screamed,” Happy said. “I’ve heard you having sex. You don’t scream like that.”

Tony winced. He knew he was loud and that he’d done things in the back of cars more than once and that hotel walls were thin. He understood where Happy was coming from.

“Well, yeah. He drew blood. It hurt.”

Happy’s eyes were wide, boring into his. He was incredulous.

“And then it felt so good that I got hard again despite having the best orgasm of my life seconds before.”

Happy gagged in disgust. It took him a minute to recover. When he did, he said, “Then why did you do that? You could have said it was all consensual. If it was then you had no reason to lie.”

Tony shook his head. “No, he’s a doctor. I was a patient. We were doing an official consult in his office. He’s a cat, Happy. Do you really think they’d let that go?” He sighed. “They wouldn’t. They’d fire him and no one would hire him. It’d ruin him and it’d be my fault.”

His words were met with silence. Happy’s eyes were on the road but his shoulders were slumped.

“I checked his background. He’s brilliant. He could be the best in his field if he’s given the chance. We need more cats like him. He’s a trailblazer. Even if this didn’t set us back then that’d be one less person for people to look up to. He’s also the only surgeon designing procedures specifically for cats.”

Happy was silent. His head moved as he considered what to say. After several minutes he said, “I know how important this is to you. But did you consider the repercussions if this gets out? You’re a superhero now. You’re the one everyone looks up to. Losing him would be bad, but losing you would be devastating.”

He wasn’t a cat person himself and he’d been with Tony a long time, but not forever. He hadn’t seen everything that Tony had gone through just to be allowed to run the company, let alone do anything else. Reading about something and seeing it first-hand was different. The struggles he faced today were nothing like the ones he’d faced in the past.

Tony thought about the palladium core burning away in his chest, keeping him alive and killing him at the same time.

“It’ll be fine, Happy. I trust him. He knows what’s at stake.”

Clearly knowing that any more arguments would fall on deaf ears, Happy drove the rest of the way to their hotel in silence. He wasn’t pleased but neither was Tony. He knew that going to these doctors was pointless, he just hoped that it hadn’t been a mistake.

And he really hoped that Pepper would never find it out.

(And he really, _really_ wished that he had waited until he had taken the doctor to the hotel to kiss him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The medical stuff Stephen spews came from this website: https://journals.lww.com/md-journal/Fulltext/2018/11210/Limited_laminectomy_and_foraminal_decompression.49.aspx I have no idea if it makes any sense but it was the best I could do. If you can give me better words please comment. If you can't help, comment anyway. It makes my day. :)


	4. YOLO - Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Man 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I didn’t do a burn test on my cat’s fur vs my hair. I couldn’t find any articles either and my search history is sketchy to begin with. I’d heard that animal fur burns faster than human hair and I’m sticking with the rumor rather than chopping off a lock of my hair, brushing the cat and risk setting my house on fire. :P  
> No beta this time! 
> 
> ~~Also, sorry not sorry for the title. lol~~

Tony had replayed the senate arms committee hearing over and over in his head and he couldn’t think of anything he could have done differently. He couldn’t let the government have his tech. Not this one. It was too big and too unstoppable. It was a game-changer. 

He’d spent all his time since Afghanistan trying to undo some of the damage he’d done by making weapons. Stane had said that the arc reactor was the best one ever created and he wasn’t wrong. When Tony died he had to find some way to take the technology with him or his legacy would be death and devastation despite his best efforts.

“You’re distracted,” Pepper said irritably.

“Hm?” Tony hummed distractedly. He’d gone through every element. None of them would work as a replacement for palladium. There had to be something he wasn’t seeing.

She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes.

Tony ignored it. He knew he was being a pain and that she didn’t understand. After all, how could she? He didn’t tell her anything. He still hadn’t told her he was dying. They were both wrong-footed by the change in their relationship too. She’d obviously been expecting him to keep chasing her and he had planned on it. But ever since his… whatever it was… with the doctor, he couldn’t.

Everyone smelled wrong. _Everyone_. He couldn’t imagine that just by smelling one person that it’d put him off all the others—at least not for this long. Yet, that’s what had happened. Just thinking about being with anyone else made him sick. What was worse was that he still had his normal libido. He was spending far too much of his limited time with his hand down his pants.

He was exhausted, frustrated and on edge.

Pepper had come in to complain about the art he’d donated. He had to admit he hadn’t given the action much thought. He couldn’t think straight and he didn’t care about art. It wasn’t like he could take his wealth with him when he died and giving it away meant it would do some good and bring someone else joy. (Plus, it had been really funny watching people squabble about how ridiculous it was to have given famous art to the Boy Scouts of America and not a museum. They tried to toe the line between not bashing children and charity and still make him seem like a bad guy. They weren’t being very successful and it made the petty part of him happy.) He’d missed the fact that Pepper cared about art and that she had an emotional investment in the collection.

Maybe, if he could just think with a clear head for even a day, he could be more considerate to the people around him.

He took down the Newman’s Own (wait, that wasn’t right, was it?) painting of a stupid little line that Pepper loved so much and put up a neat print someone had done of his Iron Man suit. Pepper could wander off with the line, protect it from him. Hopefully, that would appease her. 

She rambled about the wind farm people and the plastic people and he. Just. Didn’t. Care. He wanted to work on sustainable energy without giving up his reactor tech but with each passing day, it became less and less important. It was becoming clear that his last days were not going to be usable and that he couldn’t actually accomplish anything meaningful in the time he had left.

He hoped by starting up the Stark Expo again he could get more people interested in science and technology and that someday someone would rise and take up the space he was leaving behind. That by sharing ideas more people would have ideas.

But, Pepper was probably right. It was probably a waste of time and money. And he could admit that by starting it up again he could claim some part of the ideas and inventions it spawned. Which, yes, was his ego going wild, just as she’d said.

As he stood on the counter and enjoyed looking down at Pepper for once in his life, only one of his ears brushed the ceiling. He hadn’t gone to any of the other doctors after meeting Strange and there had only been one meeting before him. Happy lied for him and he spent his time working on the Expo in his room.

“I just figured this out, you run the company,” he said, lithely landing on his feet after stepping off the counter. He’d given this a lot of thought. He could appoint his own replacement and he couldn’t think of anyone better than Pepper to run things in his absence. She was already running the company anyway (she just shoved things under his nose to sign) and she understood the path he wanted the company to go in the future.

“Yeah, I’m _trying_ to run the company.”

Her cold must be making her slow.

He bickered with her and it might have been playful if he’d never gone to that doctor but he had so he had to refrain from just shouting in her face.

“I’m trying to make you CEO!” he exclaimed, keeping his voice as level as he could.

She blinked at him, confused.

“Why won’t you let me?”

Confusion gave way to suspicion. She sniffed at his breath. “Have you been drinking?”

He knew she wouldn’t recognize the scent and he might have said, _“not alcohol,”_ but then she’d ask what so he just jumped ahead and said, “Chlorophyll.”

“I hereby irrevocably appoint you chairman and CEO of Stark Industries, effective immediately,” he said, going back to the subject at hand. He held her eyes and made sure she understood how sincere he was.

She was stunned and happy and Tony gave her as much attention as he could spare. He even opened a bottle of champagne.

He only drank a little of it, not even a full glass. He shooed her out of his workspace when she started giving him flirtatious looks.

When he was sure she was gone he groaned and had more chlorophyll.

One problem down, only about a million and twelve more to go.

***

Happy had decided that Tony needed more combat training after being bitten by that doctor. Tony suspected that Happy thought the man had taken advantage of him but since he never brought it up Tony let it lie. The regular workouts relieved some of the stress and frustration he’d been feeling.

When Happy wasn’t around, Tony did other training. He spent his time watching videos on mixed martial arts and even going so far as to try yoga. He thought this would be useful in his future as Iron Man and he tried not to listen to the little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that Iron Man had no future.

It wasn’t hopeless, not yet.

(Who was he trying to kid? Of course it was.)

Pepper had left him alone for the most part since he told her she was becoming CEO. She was doing what she normally did, making his wishes a reality. She put in all the paperwork, set up all the meetings, even wrote the press release with his name at the bottom.

***

Happy dropped his fists in the middle of their latest boxing session, distracted by someone entering the room.

A redhead was in the doorway. Tony understood why Happy was drooling. Objectively, she was very attractive. Normally he’d be drooling too but he knew that once he came close to her the smell would put him off, so he didn’t even bother letting his brain go down that path.

Happy didn’t have that problem and Tony punched him a bit, not getting a response until he kicked him half across the ring.

“That’s it, I’m done!” Happy snapped.

Wanting to make it up to the man, Tony told the woman (whose name was Natalie Rushman, apparently) to get into the ring. Give her and Happy some one-on-one time.

She stared at him, giving him bedroom eyes. But, as he’d suspected, she smelled wrong. He waited for her to look away, wondering when she’d crack. She didn’t, even after he drank as much of the stupid chlorophyll mixture as he could stand.

It was he who became uncomfortable first.

“What?” he demanded.

She didn’t respond.

Tony gave himself a little smile. He still had it. That was a nice little confidence boost.

Pepper got all defensive which was cute. He knew he should tell her that there was no risk of a sexual harassment suit from him but she’d ask why and Tony didn’t know if his sense of smell was messed up from the palladium poisoning or from that outrageously attractive doctor. Either way, it wasn’t a door he wanted to open.

Happy was blowing it so Tony turned his attention to the people Pepper had picked out as potential assistants, giving them a once over. Their profiles really didn’t matter to him. Honestly, it was their personality and their scent that was important. And he didn’t want a new assistant anyway. Pepper was his assistant, had been for the last decade. He didn’t want to waste time training up someone new. He’d be dead before he even got started.

Tony looked up in time to see Rushman wrap her legs around Happy’s throat and him drop to the ground. It was hard to keep from laughing. Tony had been rejected a lot of times but never like that. He’d tease Happy about it later.

“I need your impression,” Rushman said as she stepped out of the ring.

“You have a quiet reserve. I don’t know, an old soul…”

“I meant your fingerprint,” she said with a wry smile.

Tony wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. She was intriguing.

“So, how are we doing?” Pepper asked, walking up and standing too close. She couldn’t have possibly been more blatant in marking her territory.

Tony stuck his thumb on the ink pad then the page.

As fun as it would be to have them fight over him, the pheromones they were putting out was making his nose itch.

Pepper sent her off and Tony tried to discreetly rub his nose. Hopefully, that would be the last he saw of her. The whole room stunk now.

***

The flight to Monaco was hell. Pepper was somehow being needy and ignoring him at the same time. Happy was asleep and he hadn’t taken the ingredients he needed on the plane to make the disgusting green gunk that made him feel semi-human.

Chlorophyll drinks made him less groggy, less irritable and helped with the stinging ache in his chest. He wanted to try and take a nap but he was in too much pain. So, he sat next to Pepper as she worked, occasionally making humming sounds and thought about how he was going to get the government off his back and keep them away from the suit when he was no longer around to protect it.

***

The Grand Prix was public and that meant it was showtime. There were a lot of negative rumors flying after it hit the news that Pepper was running the company. People needed to meet her as CEO and Tony could help facilitate that. He knew these people and they knew him. Pepper needed contacts and he’d help her get them while showing the world that he was healthy and maintaining the public persona that made everyone happy that he was Iron Man.

Neither of them had an assistant and Happy was not pleased about being cuffed to a heavy “suitcase” the entire trip and doing all the driving. He had snarled at them when they asked him to do other things but relented like he always did.

They made their way to the bar while Happy went to get them a table, Pepper stopped to talk to Elon Musk. Tony left her to it. Too many people in here and all of them reeked. If he was going to act even halfway normal he needed a drink.

“Anthony! Is that you?”

Tony closed his eyes and cursed every deity in existence.

“My least favorite person on Earth, Justin Hammer.” Tony didn’t bother feeling bad. He didn’t have to play nice until he had his drink in hand.

And now that stupid bimbo reporter was here and somehow that summoned Pepper. He wondered if he shouldn’t have stolen Rushman from legal anyway. At least then he’d have someone to get him away while people had pissing contests over him.

He couldn’t shout, _“I’m not interested in any of you for the love of god just leave me alone!”_ Though he really wanted to.

“Thought I’d throw her a bone,” Hammer said about the journalist.

Tony was in hell. He had died and the devil himself was torturing him. It couldn’t have possibly been more effective. Hammer was simultaneously trying to one-up him, condescend to him and make him jealous and, as usual, he was going about it in the stupidest way possible. Pepper was giving him the fight he wanted by telling him that Tony had already slept with the woman and she was being transparently judgmental and possessive while she did it. The journalist was trying to take everything in stride to get in good with Pepper and not blow her chances at future interviews.

It was a giant uncomfortable cluster fuck and Tony still didn’t have his drink.

Pepper folded first and escaped and while Tony would normally be happy to be rid of her aggressive pheromones that left him alone with two of the most irritating people on the continent—both of whom, he could now smell, were interested in sharing his bed.

“Don’t leave me,” he whined at Pepper’s back.

Hammer took the opportunity to rub his hand, and thus disgusting scent, all over Tony’s suit.

“Hey, buddy. How you doing?”

_I am both literally and figuratively dying and if you don’t get your fucking hand off my body I’m going to break it._

Hammer’s hand moved up to Tony’s neck, brushing against the mark Strange had left there and only the photographer’s flash prevented Tony from punching him in the face.

Aggressively irritating journalist instincts saved Tony. Maybe the woman wasn't as bad as he thought. Once the recording device came out Tony was able to step away from Hammer and free himself without the man following him. To keep him away, Tony happily informed the woman that Hammer’s contract had been revoked. It seemed fair since he couldn’t—well, _shouldn’t —_ hit him and didn’t have enough in his stomach to vomit on him.

Hammer touching him anywhere was wrong. Touching him there was… unspeakable.

Knowing that he wouldn’t last to get his drink, he escaped to the men’s room. Hammer wouldn’t follow—he needed to clear his good name with the woman he was trying to sleep with.

**BLOOD TOXICITY: 53%**

The lines on his chest were darker and spreading fast. The palladium wasn’t building up at a uniform rate. It was compounding. He had less time than he thought.

“Got any other bad ideas?” he asked his reflection.

***

The driving suit fit like a glove after he took scissors to the ends of the pants and sleeves. The raw edges were hidden by gloves and shoes. He smiled at his reflection. He looked good.

People clamored for autographs and took pictures and he didn’t have to fake a smile. He’d wanted to do this ever since his dad bought the car. He’d thought it was a fantasy he’d never get to fulfill. It was reckless and stupid and, as much as he liked to be both those things this, was a new level.

Then again, he was dying so he was allowed to say fuck it and do all the crazy things he’d always wanted to do.

“Well, what’s the use of having and owning a race car if you don’t drive it?” Tony quipped to the man asking questions in French. He could speak French perfectly well, but Americans would want to watch this.

The driver was pissed but Tony didn’t care. He’d still be paid and it wasn’t like he was going for a triple crown. He’d placed fifth in the qualifiers and America had never won in the history of the race. Tony was doing him a favor.

Tony sat down and listened to the instructions as they checked everything. He knew all the rules and he’d driven Formula One cars before on a closed track. He was nervous but excited. He had no delusions that he was going to win. In fact, it’d be amazing if he didn’t come in dead last. He didn’t care if he crashed at the first corner. He was driving in the Monaco Grand Prix!

The lights flashed and he floored it, forcing his way into the line. The other drivers were being overly cautious of him. They knew he was inexperienced and they didn’t want to be the one he crashed into.

Going through a tunnel he was in fourth and closing on the third-place driver fast. The world was a blur around him. He took the next turn too fast and slid. When he overcorrected several cars passed him. The thrill he got from recovering the dangerous mistake made him shout.

After the next turn, he saw a man was in the road and Tony only had time to register that he shouldn’t hit him before he was on him. There was a flash of light and all of a sudden half his car was missing.

He flew through the air, terrified. 

This was nothing like flying in his suit. There was no control, he didn’t have the safety of bulletproof metal encasing him. Horrifyingly, the car flipped, landed, hit another car and flipped again. There was no roll cage, only his helmet protected his head from the pavement.

Tony ripped the thing off as soon as he was sure the car had come to a complete stop. His ears were freed and he moved them, trying to hear everything now that they weren’t pressed flat against his head.

The man walked to him, a light in his chest and metal down his arms. Electricity sparked in ropes from his hands. More cars came and when they tried to stop they crashed into each other in a huge explosion.

It was cinematic. A crash to end all crashes. But, it was mostly unlucky. None of the tires or debris hit the man and Tony’s sense of smell was overwhelmed, making him even more disoriented. He didn’t have time to focus on that. He had to get away. Only, he couldn’t just get away. People were in danger. That was his arc reactor tech. He’d know it anywhere. He needed to take the guy out before he hurt anyone else.

All with no suit and tail was stuck down one of the legs of his fireproof pants. He needed to be crafty, he was at a major disadvantage.

He struck as hard and as fast as he could, but it didn’t work. The man didn’t even stumble after Tony hit him with a metal panel. He lashed out, knocking Tony to the ground and trying to hit him with his electric whips. They’d just cut his car in half; he wouldn’t survive being struck by them.

Considering he was disoriented to begin with because of the palladium, even more so with the accident and he didn’t have use of the appendage he used to balance, he thought he was doing pretty well. Jumping over the car was a miss, but the idiot didn’t take advantage of it. He toyed with him and Tony had all but given up hope when he saw gas leaking out of the ruptured tank.

Tony watched the man advance in the car’s mirror. He needed to time this right, he couldn’t afford to forget about his tail again and stumble. The man made a big show of his toys and Tony soaked in every detail.

The idiot telegraphed his every move. Tony had plenty of time to get out of the way when the strike landed.

He hid behind the resulting fire, belatedly noticing his sleeve and trying to smother the flame there and still keep an eye on the man. Fur burnt faster than hair, Tony knew that from experience.

The man walked through the flames as if they were nothing and Tony stumbled backward. He wanted as much space between them as possible.

Then, thank god, he saw his car on the track. Happy was coming, he’d have his suit. He kept it in the corner of his eye, not wanting the villain to see it.

It wasn’t stopping.

Tony leaped up onto the chain-link and clung to it as Happy rammed the man with the car, smashing him against the fencing and pinning him there. Tony looked down and saw the man bent in half, unmoving.

“Are you ok?” Happy called out from his rolled-down window.

“Yeah,” Tony gasped and moved over before letting go. He came to the car, wanting to check that Happy was ok too.

He looked fine.

“Were you heading for me or him?” Tony demanded. Now that he knew everyone was ok, he was pissed. If he hadn’t jumped he’d have been smashed too. “‘Cause I can’t tell!” he yelled. That’d just be his luck, not taken out by palladium or a bad guy but his own bodyguard.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Pepper screeched from the back seat.

Tony went to her window. Forgetting that she was no longer his assistant he told her to get better security.

“Get in the car!” Pepper screamed.

“I was attacked!” Tony yelled back.

Pepper didn’t stop screaming and Tony decided to leave the argument walk around and get in. He’d tried to cover his slip up by yelling about her being CEO. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice.

The car door was sliced in half and Tony looked up. Somehow, that asshole was still alive.

He needed his suit. He tried to get it from Pepper as Happy rammed the car into the man over and over again. The door swung wildly and Pepper kept screaming, the car was sliced in pieces before the case was finally in front of him.

The armor melded to his body and he tried to ignore the sensation of his tail being pushed against his leg and the fact that this was going to kill him faster. This suit was experimental and didn’t have all the weaponry. He also had to watch out for civilians and Pepper and Happy.

As they fought, Tony discovered the suit was damaged but not destroyed by the whips. He used that to his advantage. The man had no other weapons and it was easy for Tony to throw him to the ground and rip out his reactor. He wanted to kill the man but he needed to interrogate him first. Hopefully, afterward, he’d die of his wounds in a cold jail cell.

***

The interrogation didn’t turn up much. Dear old dad had made an enemy and now Tony had to deal with the fallout. 

Yay. Just what he needed, another problem.

Of course, the man knew Tony was dying too. The cherry on top of the shit sundae. 

***

Tony came just in time to see Senator Stern trashing him on TV. Vanko was right about one thing, there was blood in the water and the sharks were circling.

He’d made an omelet as an excuse for being gone so long. The pain killers had taken far too long to kick in. The omelet was a disaster but Tony was pretty sure that if he had used all three hours to keep trying it wouldn’t have turned out better. More proof that he was helpless on his own. He needed people. He needed Pepper. 

“Tony,” Pepper’s voice was kind and soft. “What are you not telling me?”

“I don’t want to go home,” Tony admitted. “At all. Let’s cancel my birthday party and… uh… We’re in Europe. Let’s go to Venice, Cipriani.”

It was hard being vulnerable. He needed to be, now. It was time. “It’s a great place to…” _Spend my last days._ “...be healthy.” 

Damnit.

“I don’t think this is the right time. We’re in kind of a mess,” Pepper said. She was still using that tone but it had an edge to it now. 

“Yeah, but maybe that’s why it’s the best time,” Tony argued.

He kept trying, though he knew it was pointless. He didn’t want to give up. He didn’t want to die alone. He didn’t want his last moments to be filled with stress. He just wanted to sit and enjoy the time he had left in a place where no one expected anything from him.

“Not everybody runs on batteries, Tony.”

It was a good joke, but if Pepper had known the truth she never would have made it.

 _Tell her,_ Tony’s internal voice said. The one that was rational and didn’t hate him.

He kept silent.

 _Coward,_ the other voice said.

That one was right. It usually was.

***

Tony looked up Vanko. Just what had his father gotten him into?

Apparently, the man had been in bed with a bunch of spies and terrorists. Did he know about Stane, then?

And still, Howard got the golden legacy. Tony, the great disappointment, the useless garbage of the Starks, got all the shit. He could’ve tried to defend himself, but he knew it was pointless. The press loved to hate him and the only thing he would do was make it worse.

Rhodey came in and informed him that the government was done playing games. He’d thought he had more time. Vanko had ruined his plans to gift Rhodey the suit when he announced his health problems and upcoming death. To declare him the new Iron Man after he’d destroyed the other suits and any other trace of his technology. He knew that Rhodey wouldn’t stand for making more suits and reverse engineering everything would take a decade or two. Rhodey would be able to come up with a plan to make sure the Earth wasn’t destroyed by his tech by then.

Back up plan time. How could he fix this?

Maybe, if he let Rhodey know he was dying they could come up with something together. How could he tell him, though? If he couldn’t even tell Pepper? They were men and this… this wasn’t something men just talked about. 

He didn’t need to play up the exhaustion when Rhodey came to see him. He really did need help getting over to his desk. He shouldn’t have waited so long to change out the core.

There was less time left than he thought. A plan formed in his mind. It was a stupid plan, he knew that, but it was the best he had. (Plus, it saved him from an awkward sentimental scene.) He didn’t expose his chest and lied about the marks the poisoning was leaving on his body. 

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Rhodey said.

_Tell him! Ask for help!_

_No, you trusted Stane. What if Rhodey came up with a plan that gave the military everything?_

“I wish I could believe that.”

***

**Palladium concentration: 89%**

***

Tony had a hangover. But, he also had a doughnut. So, not everything was horrible. Rhodey had his suit. Whether he’d notice that it didn’t have space for cat ears or a tail was another thing. It would probably be better if he didn’t. He should focus on the fact that it was completely unfinished.

Tony thought he’d had more time.

He knew that if he pushed everyone away that it’d be less painful for them. Maybe that’s what he’d been doing the whole time. He didn’t want to die alone nor did he want people mourning for him. He couldn’t have both and the latter was the better option.

***

SHIELD struck when Tony was at his lowest. He should have expected it, really.

When Rushman—Romanov—showed up Tony glared at her. Thankfully he hadn’t fallen for her trap. Though, if she’d been wearing that black bodysuit when she’d tried to seduce him she would’ve gotten him. The terrible smell would have been tolerable to see that every day.

Still, sending spies into his company was a big mark against SHIELD. He might have thought of revenge if he cared more. He’d have Pepper remove her clearance and do some housecleaning.

The one good thing to come out of the meeting was the shots would give him more time. Fury had said that Howard had a solution but he didn’t hand one over. Apparently, he had to find it himself.

***

Yes, he probably shouldn’t have treated Pepper’s boyfriend (were they to that point yet?) like his lackey. But then, threatening to tase a guy with a bunch of metal in his chest wasn’t cool either.

Going through the stuff SHIELD brought for him made him sentimental, though he tried to fight it. His dad had been brilliant. Why hadn’t he given Tony the time of day? Tony knew he wasn’t dumb (though he often felt like he was), he could have kept up with a lot of things in the notebooks. God, he would be so much further ahead if his father had just sat down with him for a bit.

Tony watched himself on the film, eyes bright, ears perked up as he came in to see what his father was doing. All he wanted was some attention. Whenever he did get it he regretted it instantly. Never stopped him from trying. Always seeking approval.

“Maria!” Howard called as Tony was dragged away.

He ignored the pain in his chest as he remembered the scene from his own eyes.

The rest of the notebook was blank. Nothing helpful came from there.

“Tony,” film Howard addressed him. “I built this for you.” He gestured at the model Expo. Images flashed of the little buildings before a quick scene of his father’s model arc reactor.

This was it. This was the clue.

“You will change the world.” 

Tony swallowed thickly.

“What is and always will be my greatest creation is you.”

What did it mean?

 _“He never even told me he liked me.”_ Tony had just talked to Coulson about this. God, if he’d seen the film it’d be awkward. Though, it kind of explained their interaction now that he thought about it.

***

Oh!

***

The house was already fucked so a little remodeling wasn’t a big deal. And the payoff. God, yes! He’d solved it! He’d live!

And the taste of coconut and metal was much better than burning acid and metal.

“Oh, wow! Yeah!”

***

He saved the day, Pepper, the people at the Expo, including one awesomely brave little kid. A nice bonus was getting Hammer out of the way, making sure Vanko wouldn’t cause any more trouble and wiping Hammer Industries’s severs and building clear of all arc reactor notes. Vanko had done the work of destroying all the ones he’d made for him.

Pepper forgave him for the whole dying-and-not-telling-her thing and they were almost having a moment before Rhodey spoke up. It was good that he did, Pepper had a boyfriend (right?) and it was clear now that it wasn’t the poisoning that made her smell off (though she did smell quite a bit better now).

The world was safe, he wasn’t dying and his found family was back together.

It was a very good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good job on not having internalized toxic masculinity, Tony. :/ You tried (and really are doing quite well, considering).
> 
> Also, I wrote this well before seeing FFH and the similarities are haunting me.
> 
> PS, If you're a fan of Good Omens check out my twitter: @gizmotrinket221 or my tumblr theartone I have a cool thing.


	5. Doing The Right Thing - Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up with Stephen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hospital politics suck ass and there’s literally no right way to navigate them. Thankfully, I never had to. I just got to listen to all the gossip about people who did. The hospital I worked at had an in-house CEO but I’m given to understand that’s unusual so I did my best adjusting the hierarchy. Hospitals are an effing nightmare and working in healthcare will give you nightmares for the rest of your life. The people who can manage to do that and not get jaded are freaking saints.
> 
> Beta'd by [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine) who is a saint purely for putting up with me.

Stephen had a headache. He always had a headache nowadays. Ever since that appointment with Tony Stark he hadn’t felt right. 

At first, he chalked it up to stress. If the receptionist opened her mouth rumors would start and although he might not get fired, he’d never be respected. As time went by it was clear that whatever it was wasn’t entirely stress-related.

The question was, why did Stark do that? Why take the blame? Stephen was the one who leaned into his space, the one to push Tony into the door, to leave marks up and down his neck, to work his cock, to bite him so hard that he broke the skin. Sure, Stark had been more than happy to participate, but Stephen was the one who’d done everything. Stark had screamed, he’d been in pain. 

When Stephen had cleaned the mess from his office door he wondered how anyone had bought the lie in the first place. He didn’t have any defensive wounds and Stark’s neck was a mess of bright love bites.

He felt so guilty. He should have been honest about the whole thing. Yeah, he might not be a doctor if he did, but he was besmirching a good man’s name. And he had been a good man, willing to take the blame like that. Stark wasn’t an idiot, he knew the risks. With his reputation and fame, he’d be crucified. 

Days and then weeks passed. The receptionist, Doris, who’d only barely tolerated him before, brought him coffee and made his work a priority. She treated him like a stray cat she’d gotten from a shelter. It was exhausting to be cooed over and babied. He was a human, and one wouldn’t try and pet a human’s head. The other surgeons who shared her services noticed the change but didn’t bother commenting. Some people treated cat people like cats, it was weird and uncomfortable for everyone. Honestly, Stephen thought they were hiding because the others didn’t want to be caught in the blast when he finally lost it.

Overall, this hospital was good, they’d hired him and were tolerant of his attitude. They recognized his skills and were eager for him to publish his research and took finding relevant patients upon themselves. He was willing to put up with an annoying coworker for it. After all, no job was perfect.

He’d convinced himself that what happened with Stark was for the best. He had become a doctor to save lives. If he lost his job he couldn’t help himself let alone anyone else. School loans didn’t care about your situation. Stark wanted to be a superhero—was a superhero—he must have understood the desire to save lives and gave Stephen the way to do so.

Sometimes Stephen would lick his lips, the phantom taste of overly metallic blood clinging to them. He still didn’t understand why he’d been so drawn to Stark, why he’d bitten him and why he still thought about it six months later. 

The fact was, Stephen couldn’t get Stark out of his head. Every time he saw him on the news his pants got tighter. When he touched himself he thought about that fantastic ass pushed out and Tony’s moans. Just hearing the name Stark made him salivate. 

Stark hadn’t gotten his ear fixed. It was harder to tell from pictures and video but he didn’t think he’d ever had his tail looked at either. Was it his fault? Did Stark not trust doctors now?

That night Stephen opened his laptop and searched for Tony Stark. It was the easiest way to masturbate—porn really didn’t have the same oomph—and he was just owning his slight obsession at this point. Loads of people wanted to have sex with Tony Stark and there were more than enough videos of his… exploits… to know near every inch of his body.

Apparently, he’d been at a senate arms committee recently. Stephen watched the video, incredulous. How was this snarky prick been the same guy that begged to be fucked and then claimed blame for something he didn’t do?

Stark had looked between his assistant, Ms. Potts, and his friend, Colonel Rhodes, and those were the only times he seemed earnest. 

Thinking about those two made something dark in Stephen hiss. He didn’t like the endless parade of women in the more interesting videos and pictures, but Stark actually cared about those two. There hadn’t been any pictures of Stark bringing people home since he came back from Afghanistan—was it because he was in a relationship with one of them? They were the only two he was ever seen with besides his driver.

Come to think of it, his driver looked pissed and hadn’t been gentle about dragging Stark out of the office. Was it because they were dating? Had Stark cheated?

 _Was that why he hadn’t called?_ Stephen dismissed the nonsensical thought. There were many perfectly good reasons why he hadn’t heard from the inventor. He shook his head to clear it. 

He was fantasizing about Stark waltzing in and finishing what they started, Stark declaring he couldn’t live without Stephen and whisking him off to his private island. It wasn’t impossible, Stark was in New York setting up his Expo.

It was absurd, Stark couldn’t contact Stephen without risking upsetting the hornet’s nest and vice versa. No contact was good contact.

He hit play on the video again and thought about throwing Stark over his thighs and spanking him for hacking the screens and then flipping him over and worshiping his cock for refusing to hand over the armor. 

God, he had it bad.

When he came he bit his hand hard enough to draw blood. He cursed his stupidity, he needed his hands in good working order. The anger didn’t last long, the headache returned with a vengeance when the pain in his hand faded. Stephen decided to call it an early night.

***

The hospital had found him a candidate for his surgery. When Stephen scrubbed up he was nervous. Far more nervous than he let on. He knew everything, he’d worked it all out, practiced the movements—not that they were that different from other procedures he’d done. He played being the arrogant asshole that everyone knew him as but his heart wasn’t in it today. His hand was feeling slightly stiff, it wasn’t completely healed, but that wasn’t what had him rattled.

His head _ached._ If he didn’t know any better he’d say he had a migraine. The symptoms didn’t match though and it had gone on far too long. The possibilities were terrifying. He knew, as a doctor, that he had to have a scan. The longer he let it go, the bigger the possible tumor grew, the worse it would be. However, as a doctor, he knew the repercussions of finding an issue in the first place. Brain surgery wasn’t without risks or consequences (he would know). And, what if there was nothing? Admitting he had a headache that wouldn’t go away would make people scrutinize every procedure, every decision. They might even bar him from surgery until they found the source of the problem. He’d allowed himself to take some over the counter meds because of the bite on his hand but they weren’t helping.

“Doctor Strange?” a nurse prompted.

He shook the tension out of his shoulders and focused on the shaved tail in front of him.

“Let’s do this.”

***

Well, it could have been worse.

Stephen watched the recording of the surgery over and over and over and _over_ to see where he went wrong. It should have worked. The science was sound. He couldn’t see anything. Not one movement was awry. Nothing he’d done would have caused the patient to lose feeling in the tip of her tail. He hadn’t severed any nerves, he hadn’t damaged the vertebrae in a way that they would have slipped.

He rubbed his temples and restarted the video. Now, as well as the dull ache that made it hard for him to focus, he also had a sharp stabbing sensation behind his eye.

There was something he was missing. Nothing he’d done would have caused this. Yes, the procedures he’d combined were for spines, not tails, but the two weren’t _that_ different. When a cat person broke their tail they had it set, it was usually set wrong because it wasn’t a finger. It was much more complex than that but no one seemed to care, and treated it the same way. The cat person then had to live out their life with limited mobility and/or a kink. 

It was unacceptable. Tails were vital and stupid jealous people liked to target them. More people had broken tails than not. He couldn’t change others to make them stop hurting those who are different. He could only fix what they did. Unsurprisingly, cat people had high suicide rates and having surgeries for them so they could live their lives comfortably was important.

Stephen gave up on the video. If he hadn’t seen the problem yet he wouldn’t see it. He opened the patient’s file. He’d looked at it after the surgery but not since. 

That’s when he saw it.

It wasn’t hard to check all the records. See the history.

He stood, barely containing his rage. His head was clear (or perhaps he was too mad to notice the pain anymore) and he marched to the administration offices. He made a scene demanding the secretary page the hospital director immediately and had them page the recovery nurse to meet there.

Stephen waited with the nurse. He hadn’t made an appointment and he didn’t care. This needed to be taken care of now.

“Doctor Strange, how can I help you?” the hospital director asked as they were led into her office.

He knew what she was really asking. _Why are you bothering me without an appointment and dragging one of the nursing staff in with you?_

“Nurse Roberts, care to explain?” Stephen asked.

“What?” she asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

“Why did you change out my orders? I ordered anti-inflammatories for post-op. Why weren’t they administered?”

“Doctor Strange, if you have a problem with one of the nursing staff you need to take it up with—”

Stephen cut the director off. “You’ll see why I came to you directly.”

The nurse, seeming to realize that the director was going to allow this said, “I didn’t see the order.”

“Yes,” Strange said with a dark smile. “I thought you’d say that.”

Nurse Roberts had the director pull up the chart. 

“See, it’s not there.”

The director gave Stephen a flat look but Stephen didn’t give her a chance to reprimand him. 

“Errors happen, I understand that. However, Nurse Roberts’s charts indicate that quite a few medication orders go missing.”

“It’s not my fault, it’s the software. It’s been changed. It’s confusing—”

“See, I thought you’d say that too. I looked through your history. The orders only go missing on patients who happen to be felis sapiens.”

The director’s eyes widened and she shot a panicked glance at the nurse.

“She ruined my procedure and, quite possibly, my patient’s life,” Stephen said, trying to keep his fisted hands from shaking. He’d never been this angry in his life.

“Well, now, Doctor Strange, the incident is unfortunate and Nurse Roberts’s history will be looked into. But, a numb tail is hardly life-ruining.”

Stephen ground his teeth. He reminded himself that he couldn’t lose his cool or he’d lose his job.

“After all, it’s a tail. They’re not necessary.”

“Nrgh!” The sound escaped before he could contain it. He knew his own tail was thrashing wildly and the long fur on it was bristling, completely giving him away.

He looked at them both and realized this was a battle he wasn’t going to win. As for the war...

“I brought this here so as few people would learn about it as possible and it would still be resolved,” Stephen said.

The director recognized the threat but also was in his debt. If Stephen had contacted the nurse’s supervisor it would have had to go to the nursing director and HR and IT and the whole hospital would know about it. People in healthcare tended to care about people, it wouldn’t stay quiet. Skipping the line and going to the director of the entire hospital, where the information would have ended up anyway, had saved the hospital a lot of bad PR. Whether or not it continued to do so was entirely in Stephen’s hands.

It was a dangerous game.

If Stephen had gone through proper channels there was a chance, small though it might be, that things could have been swept under the rug before too many people found out. No one would listen to him (except lawyers) because the admin would say it was handled. A risk Stephen wasn’t willing to take. By coming here and making a scene he’d ensured that people would gossip, ask questions and actually listen to him if it came to that.

Either way, he was a target. By raising the alarm through the normal channels he’d be marked as untrustworthy. Stephen wasn’t an idiot. The hospital existed to make money, people who brought up what could be potentially expensive lawsuits were a threat. Doing it this way made him an even bigger threat but also gave him control.

“Nurse Roberts, please go to HR, I’ll call and let them know you’re coming,” the director said.

When she finished and call she addressed Stephen, “Alright, what do you want?”

“I want the exploit in the program that allowed the nurse to change orders fixed, I want her fired and charges brought up.” 

The director’s eyes narrowed.

Stephen understood. “Relax, this doesn’t have to go to court,” _though it should,_ “I just want her license revoked. If you happen to find out that she was pocketing the drugs she was supposed to give to patients use that instead. I hardly care what you do as long as she can’t hurt anyone else.”

“Anything else?” she asked.

“Nope,” Stephen popped the p. He wouldn’t get away with this. He could have made many more demands—a raise, a promotion, a bonus—but he didn’t care about any of that. His time here was done. He needed to leave before they found something to fire him for, they’d certainly be looking. If he left quickly and quietly the hospital wouldn’t come after him. (He could still contact the other patients, after all.) He was buying himself time by making it clear he had no intention of staying. They wanted him gone, he would be gone. Everyone toed the line and no one got hurt.

The director hadn’t had time to look at the files closely. Once she did she’d know that Stephen’s biggest card was a bluff. The patients affected hadn’t died and the lawsuits would be mild. Withholding pain medication to a person who’d just had their appendix out was cruel, but it hadn’t killed them. The other cases were similar. The news would make a stink but there’d be no lasting ramifications.

He’d be gone before the director’s panic wore off. He was Doctor Stephen Strange, he’d had his pick of hospitals when he graduated and the same would happen now.

***

“Perfect record,” the man interviewing Stephen sounded impressed. 

Stephen hadn’t really thought about it before. It was true, no one he had ever operated on had died. He knew it was an accomplishment and it was certainly something he was proud of. The “do no harm” bit of the Hippocratic Oath may not matter to some people, but it did to him.

“I’m sure you have many offers already,” the head of surgery said, “but we have the best neurological setup in the country.”

Stephen didn’t have many offers, this was the first interview he’d gone to. He had many more lined up but the man wasn’t wrong, this hospital was the best and, although he didn’t have the reputation yet, he was the best.

The interviewer leaned forward, practically salivating. They wanted him more than they let on.

“Here’s what I want…” Strange said with a smile.

***

Stephen had gotten everything he’d asked for. He hadn’t expected that. He’d thought his demands were outrageous. He’d only said half of them to negotiate. 

He set his last box of belongings on the desk in his corner office and looked out the window at the view.

A million dollars. A million dollars a year and he was thirty-four.

He was amazing.

***

“In a strange turn of events today, Colonel Rhodes of the air force went to a party at the home of Tony Stark and came back with his own version of the Iron Man suit. According to one of the women at the party, Mr. Stark had been drinking and out of control.”

Stephen glared at the screen. Stark had been adamant that no one but him had access to the suit. What happened?

“We all know he returned from Afghanistan with injuries and he was reported to have PTSD. And, we have learned that he’d gone to doctors to have his ear repaired but they couldn’t operate. One would assume there was worry about the cat person physiology—which we all know is more complex than a normal person’s—”

Stephen hissed at the screen. _“Normal person’s?”_ What the hell? It was 2009 for god sakes! 

“—and the fact that he has an experimental device in his chest known as the arc reactor. But, according to sources, his blood had been poisoned with palladium. Now, no one knows what runs the arc reactor but we have an expert here with us on metals…”

Stephen turned the screen off and pushed the laptop away.

Patient records were confidential! He’d known the law allowing felis sapiens’ records to be shared would be abused. _“Sharing knowledge to promote advances and preventing death.”_ He’d scoffed then. That’s what medical journals were for. It had been argued that medical journals took too long to be published and that allowing doctors to see relevant records in real-time mistakes wouldn’t be repeated. It was a transparent manipulation and it worked, as such tactics often did.

Then it sunk in. 

Stark was dying. Stephen had thought that Stark had signed over the company to his assistant because he didn’t have the time to be both CEO and Iron Man. There were rumors that he was sleeping with the woman too, which Stephen decided to ignore. (He felt possessive of the man in a way he knew he shouldn’t be.) But, dying... That made sense. The company needed a CEO that wouldn’t start selling weapons as soon as he was out of the way. He didn’t know much about Pepper Potts but she’d been with Stark for a long time. 

And, oh! He’d been dying when he came to see him. He knew he’d been dying, most likely. That’s why he took the blame. Stephen remembered how metallic Stark’s blood had tasted.

He picked up his phone. He may not be a cardiac surgeon but he the leading surgeon in felis sapiens.

Stark had saved his career, his livelihood, his reason for living. It was only fair that Stephen saved his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phase 1 timeline is messed up so I’m going with Tony kidnapped in 2008, met Stephen in December of 2008, Iron Man 2 2009 and Avengers 2012. Stephen changed hospitals in 2009, had his accident in late 2010, spent 7 or so months trying to find a cure before finding Kamar-Taj. I know that Doctor Strange is set in 2016 but I’m taking liberties since this is an AU and I can :P I tried to make his career reflect the changed date and his age reflect what would be reasonable for a high-achieving neurosurgeon since we don’t have a canon age for him.
> 
> Check out my Twitter @gizmotrinket221 to see some Good Omens stuff I made, watch me ramble about the MCU and Sherlock in real-time, and look at cool fanart I find. Follow me on tumblr @theartone (and turn on notifications) if you just want updates on my artistic endeavors.


	6. Slippery Slope - Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen is on top of the world, everything changes from this perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine), the best beta in the world, gave this chapter a once over but then I changed stuff so blame me for mistakes.

Stephen didn’t get a call back. He’d left messages with every number he could find related to Tony Stark and even considered travelling to California before dismissing the idea. Stark had gotten his messages, he wasn’t interested. The only comforting thought was that Stark hadn’t reached out to any doctors (as far as anyone could tell) and had confined himself to his house in Malibu.

Perhaps it was too late.

There wasn’t anything to mourn, Stephen reminded himself. And, even if there was, he had too many other problems. The other doctors at his new hospital hadn’t taken kindly to Stephen’s presence. If Stephen’s attitude hadn’t turned people against him, his fancy new office did. It was possible for Stephen to try and get along with others, but he didn’t bother. He’d learned that showing weakness—and kindness definitely fell into that category—was a good way for people to slam his tail in doors. 

In a couple years, once he’d settled and secured his place here, he’d give cozying up to coworkers a shot. Right now he was too new, too different and too much of a threat. Besides, the time would give him an opportunity to study everyone.

***

“I saw your paper on your laminectomy procedure,” Doctor Palmer said.

“You’re probably the only one who did,” Stephen said flatly. The patient had regained feeling in her tail when the inflammation went down so Stephen was able to publish the procedure. It was lucky for them both.

Doctor Palmer winced.

Stephen liked her better than most. He’d been here a year and, although she often looked at his ears and tail, she never mentioned or tried to pet them. 

Doctor Palmer never treated him as less than human or less intelligent either. Plus, she tolerated his attitude, telling him when he went too far and not getting offended by offhand comments. She understood him. So, one day, when she started flirting, Stephen wasn’t surprised. He knew she’d found him attractive, his sense of smell told him as much, but he had hoped she wasn’t going to act on it.

She wasn’t unattractive. If she’d smelled different he might have gone for it. He tried to make sure she understood he wasn’t interested without outright stating it every time she steered the conversation that way. Apparently, it hadn’t worked.

“Want to go out for dinner? My shift just ended and that was your last surgery today, right?” she asked.

He wanted to maintain their friendship. He couldn’t do that by accepting the date. While he was fine with going out to dinner and taking each other to conferences, galas and the like, she would want sex. That wasn’t something he could provide. He hadn’t had sex since Stark (Stark had orgasmed so he counted it) and while his sex drive was unaffected, his desire to touch other people was.

Something on his face must have given him away.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” Doctor Palmer said. She put a friendly hand on Stephen’s arm and pulled him into a quiet room. “You’re gay, aren’t you?”

Stephen frowned at her. “What gave you that idea?”

“Well, I’ve only ever seen you look at men.” Doctor Palmer looked uncomfortable.

That was… probably true. Occasionally he’d looked at his coworkers or visitors when they reminded him of Stark. There weren’t many cat people here but a short guy with a nice ass made him look twice. Short brown hair, brown eyes and a cocksure gait... Mmm.

“I’m sorry. I’d heard that all cat people were bisexual so I thought I’d give it a shot. It was an offensive stereotype. I shouldn’t have bought into it. You always ignored my flirting.” Doctor Palmer looked miserable.

Stephen didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know about all the other cat people but he himself was bisexual, though he preferred men by a large margin. He also thought that everyone was bisexual and most repressed it—but that was neither here nor there. It may just be his experience clouding his judgement of others.

If he said he was gay, it’d give him an easy out with Doctor Palmer and there would be no damage to their relationship. But, what if one day he found a woman he wanted to date? 

He thought about the last months, about how happy he’d been when Stark had emerged from self-inflicted house arrest with a new chest piece to give a press conference on his new bill of health and Starkium, his new element. About how he hadn't been able to get the man out of his head since their meeting no matter how hard he tried. And, how he’d never had a crush so intense or long lasting before. 

Every time he heard the name Stark, Stephen found himself half hard. It was an extremely unfortunate reaction considering the man hadn’t been out of the news for more than a couple days, what with the government having a suit and him flying all over the place taking out any cashes of illegal weapons he’d found. If it wasn’t the news—which he could avoid if he wanted (he didn’t)—the patients and staff wouldn’t stop talking about him.

He wanted to get over the man but at the same time he didn’t.

Should he date Doctor Palmer to get over Stark?

“You’re not saying anything,” she said.

No, he decided.Using her to help him get over Stark was too big a risk. Something inside him told him it wasn’t going to work anyway. If he did that he’d be losing his only friend. He didn’t see a future with her. It wouldn’t be right.

Maybe he’d go pick up a stranger at a bar.

“Right, well, for what it’s worth I am sorry,” Doctor Palmer said, looking defeated.

“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. He just wouldn’t mention the issue at all. If he didn’t say he was gay he was lying by omission but she’d probably forgive him if it ever came up. “Why don’t we get dinner anyway. As friends?” he looked at her with his head bowed, mentally asking her for forgiveness. 

“Sure,” she said. She smiled, but her eyes were watery.

“And, don’t worry about asking me out. It’s not like gay people wear a sign.” Wow, he was really digging himself a hole here, wasn’t he? “Usually,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. Pride paraphernalia was becoming a thing. 

He wasn’t sure he’d phrased that correctly. He didn’t want her stressing about making assumptions. If she’d assumed he was gay and never asked it’d be the same thing, right? There was no crime in trying since she didn’t know for sure.

She chuckled weakly.

“So, where did you have in mind?” he asked, keeping his eyes forward and taking slow steps forward to give her a second.

More quickly than he’d thought, she caught up and by the time they exited the hospital the awkwardness had passed.

***

Stephen wasn’t the bar hopping type. He went to one, sipping some poor excuse for gin and trying not to cover his ears. There were many gay bars in New York but Christine had recommended this one. He had offers, loads of them. He wasn’t bad looking and the ears and tail made people melt. 

There was one man that he considered. He looked a bit like Stark and had an undertone to his scent that wasn’t unbearable. He wasn’t very bright, but it’s not like Stephen was looking for more than a quick lay. 

But, how was he getting over Stark by bedding a man who reminded him of him?

It was no use. Stephen gave it up as a bad job and went home.

He sighed morosely as he sat in his bed, alone, listening to one of Stark’s speeches and imagined the man bending him over the podium. Stephen put one hand on his cock and lubed the fingers of his other hand, working them in and twisting to reach the spot that made his toes curl.

***

“I have an idea,” Christine said a few days later.

“Is it like the one to send a person with enhanced hearing to the loudest bar in the entire universe? ‘Cuz if it is, you can keep it to yourself.”

Christine rolled her eyes. “Ha, ha.” She hadn’t apologized but she didn’t have to. They both knew she meant well and it wasn’t like she’d ever been to the place personally. Her cousin had liked it so she’d passed along the information. He was the one who didn’t do any research.

“No, I was thinking about your laminectomy procedure,” she said.

“What about it?” Stephen asked. Thinking about it made him depressed. It hadn’t been performed by anyone other than him. No other doctors even mentioned it as an option to their patients. The patients who called his office had told him so—they had stumbled upon the article online and seeked him out.

He did many but the repetition became boring. Although fixing tails didn’t threaten his perfect record he wouldn’t move forward in his career by doing the same thing over and over (even if he’d invented it and was the only one doing it) and most patients couldn’t afford a procedure not covered by insurance. He could only do so many charity cases—both his and the hospital’s wallets depended on it. His reputation allowed him to cherry pick cases, by doing interesting surgeries he was both keeping his perfect record intact and propelling him to new heights.

And the previous director was right, perfect tails weren’t that important and he had the skills to save lives that no one else could. After all, what was a perfect tail compared to a brain tumor?

“Well, I’ve assisted you on plenty and I was thinking…” Christine trailed off.

“Out with it, I have an aneurysm to fix in thirty minutes.”

She sighed heavily but continued as if he wasn’t being a dick, “Well, with a couple tweaks it could be used on a spine.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes. He figured it could, but he was possessive of his procedure. A dark part of him thought that people who wouldn’t help his kin didn’t deserve it.

“People will read the paper to see the original procedure. It’d bring attention to it. Part of the problem is that no one’s heard of the Strange Technique.”

“No one cares,” Stephen said bitterly.

Christine didn’t argue. “The people who would do the surgery don’t have a lot of time for research. Get everyone talking and they’ll seek it out.”

Stephen rubbed his face with his hand. She was probably right, as loathe as he was to admit it.

“Yes, fine,” he said. “Send me a note with your ideas and find a viable candidate. I’ll have to come up with another name for it, it can hardly be named the Strange Technique too.”

“Palmer-Strange,” Christine said.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Strange-Palmer.”

“Ha! Palmer-Strange or you do all the busywork.” 

Stephen shook his head and relented with a snort. He’d try to change her mind later. It was mostly his work, just because she was convincing him to it didn’t mean she should get top billing.

“I have a gala for saving the deputy-mayor. They want me to give a talk. Want to go?” he asked, changing the subject to something more interesting.

“I’m not your beard,” she said. “You’re repressed. Find a real date and get rid of all…” she waved her hand up and down his body, “...that. You’re becoming more unbearable than usual.”

“What are you implying?” Stephen said, his voice warning her to tread lightly.

“I’ve seen teenagers with less pent up sexual frustration. If you’re too chicken to find a date beforehand, bring someone home along with whatever metal or plaque they’ll undoubtedly give you.”

Stephen hissed at her, low and under his breath. It wasn’t a real sound of warning, but it wasn’t entirely joking either.

“Could you have said that any louder?” He wasn’t going to even bother denying it. He was getting desperate. He’d bit his tongue so hard it bled trying to repress the boner he’d gotten when he walked into a waiting room to give the family the news that their loved one was going to be ok and Tony Stark was on the tv, strutting around, winking and blowing kisses right at the camera.

“Yes,” she said with a smug smile. “And next time I will.”

“You wouldn’t,” Stephen said, horrified.

“Palmer-Strange,” she said back and sashayed off before he could respond.

He huffed a laugh at his friend’s antics. Perhaps she was right.

***

It was raining but that didn’t bother him too much. He looked amazing, dressed to the nines and excited to be the center of attention for a while. People would flock to him, showering him with praise and he could do some networking while sipping on free drinks.

Maybe he would take someone home. It’d be nice to have another person appreciate the awards on display in his apartment. Christine just shook her head at them.

His new assistant, Billy, called him with some cases. He hit accept on his Stark Phone (the latest model, of course) and passed some idiot driving far too cautiously in the rain. His Lamborghini deserved to be driven like the masterpiece she was—not like a dull sedan.

The first case was boring. Really, a typical uncomplicated aneurysm was something anyone could take care of and he’d just successfully resolved the most complex intracranial aneurysm the hospital had ever seen.

“I have a seventy-eight-year-old male with a complex C3 fracture—he’s wanting to try those new titanium vertebrae.”

Honestly, what was the man thinking? Seventy-eight? He’d be lucky if the anesthesia alone didn’t kill him.

“Are you _trying_ to destroy my perfect record?”

Billy didn’t bother answering. “How about placing an electronic implant to control schizophrenia in a sixteen-year-old female?”

Oooh, that sounded rather fun.

“Send me the records and the information on the device.”

His phone beeped and Stephen looked over. Files received.

“Thank you,” he said and disconnected the call.

He glanced up, turned on the windshield wipers and started passing another slowpoke. He looked down to open the reader app. He’d listen to the device overview while he drove to the gala. 

Two clicks in and suddenly his car lurched and started spinning out of control. He didn’t even have time to try to correct it before he felt himself hit something else, crash through the barrier on the side of the road and go careening over the edge and down the slope into the dirty water, bouncing around like a ping-pong ball. His head was still spinning when the car finally stopped.

 _Great, now my suit is going to be wrinkled and I’m going to miss my speech,_ was his last thought before the pain overwhelmed him and he lost consciousness. 

***

He came to when the first responders started cutting his car apart. He didn’t understand what was happening and he was terrified.

“Relax, we’ve got you,” someone said before there was the sound of cracking plastic. “We’ll get your hands free and then we can get you some pain meds. Hang in there.”

Stephen didn’t understand.

***

The next time he opened his eyes he saw Christine. His hands hurt and he looked down to see bloody bandages. Bright lights made him close his eyes.

***

Agony. 

His whole world was pain.

He couldn’t breathe, each inhale caused searing pain. His face burned and he couldn’t see out of one eye. His mouth was dry as the desert. But nothing compared to the torment coming from his hands.

“Hey,” a familiar voice to his left said. “It’s ok. It’s going to be ok.”

Christine was there, looking at him like it was the end of the world.

Stephen looked down to a sight featured in torture horror films. His slender hands were swollen, more metal was visible than skin. He didn’t recognize them. He didn’t want to accept what he was seeing.

“What… did they… do?” he asked. He didn’t know if his breathing was harsh because of the pain or his emotions.

“They rushed you in a chopper. But, it took awhile to find you. Golden hours for nerve damage went by while you were in the car,” Christine explained.

“What… did they _do?”_ Stephen begged.

“Broken collarbone, broken ribs, punctured lung...” Christine started listing.

Stephen didn’t give a shit about any of that.

“Please,” he begged.

“Eleven stainless steel pins in the bones. Multiple torn ligaments. Severe nerve damage in both hands.” Christine’s voice broke. “You were on the table for eleven hours.”

“Look at these fixators,” Stephen weapt.

“No one could have done better,” Christine said, trying to comfort him.

“I could’ve done better.”

***

They told him he was lucky, his spine was intact, his tail hadn’t even been bruised. His legs had survived unscathed. Just living through the punctured lung for so long was a miracle. 

He screamed at them until he was hoarse.

They kept him sedated to control his outbursts and when he was awake he wept.

Christine kept him calm when she was there. She sat with him for hours. She’d stopped trying to comfort him, it was a lost cause. Having company was wretched, but being alone was worse.

He purred, his body recognizing the pain and trying its best to heal itself. The CNA who mistook the sound for contentment and said she was glad he was feeling better, refused to go near him after the tongue lashing he gave her. He tried to get the idiot fired for gross incompetence but no one would take the report.

Once he could move his hands he demanded to see his records. Christine, who knew better than to refuse something that could take his attention away from abusing the staff, gave him everything he asked for.

***

When the bandages were finally removed his hands shook. No matter what he did, he couldn’t hold them still.

Doctor West was there, as he’d been the lead surgeon, and Christine was there in a professional capacity as she’d assisted.

“Give your body time to heal,” West said.

“You’ve ruined me,” Stephen said, both livid and heartbroken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stephen, your over-inflated ego is making you a complete dickwad. (Yes, he’s more of an ass than in the MCU canon but he’s also more bitter and sexually frustrated. lol). 
> 
> If you like angels and are lgbt head over to my twitter @gizmotrinket221 to see what's up.


	7. Kamar-Taj - Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Strange movie, except this is an au so it's different. (duh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta, [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine), is wonderful and working on vacation so I get get this fic up. I keep changing things after, though, so look forward to all my mistakes.

The only thing that kept Stephen from jumping off the roof was the hope that he could be fixed. He tried surgery after surgery but nothing helped. The nerves were shot and each improvement was hindered by new scar tissue. 

He knew how the game worked so he wasn’t surprised when surgeons refused to see him.

“I’ve got my own reputation to consider.”

How many times had he made the same choice? Said the same thing? 

Just because he understood it didn’t mean accepted it. But the banks wouldn’t loan him any more money. He was further in debt than the sum total of the money he’d ever made. The landlord was evicting him—he hadn’t bothered to buy his apartment, spending his money on a flashy car and fancy watches instead.

A decision he regretted now. He had no property or car to leverage.

He sold his belongings one by one, making just enough payments on everything to avoid bankruptcy in the hope that some miracle would happen.

His physical therapist gave him something to cling to when he was at the end of his rope.

The man gave Stephen medical records and told him how to find the patient they belonged to. Stephen didn’t care that what they were doing was illegal and unethical, it was worth it.

***

The patient, Jonathan Pangborn, was playing basketball when Stephen found him. It was impossible with his injury. Stephen was lucky Pangborn didn’t hold a grudge and gave him the name of where he’d been healed: Kamar-Taj.

***

Kathmandu, Nepal. The last stop in a long line of desperate searching. If Kamar-Taj wasn’t here Stephen wouldn’t have a way to find it. He hid his tail in billowing pants and his ears under a woolen hat. He was well aware of what were to happen if he was found out. No matter the gender, cat people were a commodity. They were kidnapped and sold to brothels and businessman, never heard from again. It wasn’t recommended that his people leave the United States and he’d always heeded the advice. Now, he didn’t care.

He spoke the name Kamar-Taj to anyone who looked at him, walking endlessly in hole-riddled shoes. Bleeding blisters were ignored, he couldn’t afford a safe place to sleep and he wouldn’t stay in any area long—taking naps in nooks and crannies when he had to.

Too late, he realized he’d strayed from the crowds. Men circled him, there was no escape. They demanded his watch. Stephen cursed his stupidity. He’d worn it because it was a gift from Christine and he missed his only friend. He’d pushed her away in a fit of rage and, instead of fighting, she’d just shook her head and left.

“Please, it’s the only thing I have left,” he said to the muggers, though knew it was pointless. It was his connection to his old life, to the only person who he’d allowed to get close after… Well, no time to focus on that now.

He’d looked so rough that no one else had bothered him but these men had and now he was screwed.

If he handed the watch over he doubted they’d just go away. He had on a backpack, they’d take that too and then maybe they’d steal his clothes. It was common practice to sew money into the linings of jackets. If he fought they might just beat him, take his watch and backpack and leave him be. If he cooperated they’d ask for more and more and he’d give himself away. If his hat fell off hopefully flattening his ears would mask them long enough for him to get away.

He threw a punch and cried out. His hands were worthless.

They knocked him down, kicking him. He’d made a mistake. If they continued he’d have to seek medical care and he’d be found out anyway. He curled into a ball, trying to protect as much of his body as he could from the vicious kicks.

A man in dark robes fought off his attackers. Stephen looked up at his savior on awe as he handed him his watch back. It was broken, mud and blood embedded in the shattered crystal face.

“You’re looking for Kamar-Taj,” the man said, removing his hood to reveal a kind face.

Stephen nodded. A breeze kicked up and he realized his hat had fallen off. He dove for it, smashing it back on his head, though he knew it was too late. His ears had perked up at the name.

The man’s expression didn’t change. There was no light in his eyes that spoke of desire or greed.

“Follow me,” he said.

Stephen swallowed thickly. It might be the biggest mistake of his life but he was out of options. No one would take a broken watch, anything he might have bartered for food was gone with the backpack. His hands were more useless than ever and he worried that he’d broken it or damaged a pin. He didn’t have any money sewn into his clothing, he couldn’t even thread a needle anymore.

He followed the man.

***

Stephen was led to a nondescript brick building. He hesitated outside when the man opened the door. This didn’t look like a Kamar-Taj. It looked like a trap.

The man seemed to understand his hesitance and he stood away from the door so Stephen could look in. The interior looked more Kamar-Taj-y. His ears didn’t pick up any signs of distress. He took a sniff, the man wasn’t aroused and there was no smell that would indicate the place was a brothel, though the incense was strong.

“You’ll be safe here,” the man said.

Stephen had no choice but to believe him.

“I’ll take you to the Ancient One,” the man said.

“Ancient One?” Stephen walked through and decided the place was ok. “What’s his real name?”

The man didn’t seem to appreciate Stephen’s attitude. “When I first came here, I too was _disrespectful_ ,” he said the word as if he meant a much greater insult. “So, might I offer you a piece of advice?”

Stephen bowed his head.

“Forget everything you think you know.”

When he entered the room he saw a man sitting and reading. He was probably the Ancient One. Stephen tried to thank him for taking him in. He needed to be polite now, he couldn’t afford to mess this up. He usually wore his off-putting personality as a shield, never allowing people to get close. A skill he’d honed in elementary school that served him well. It had become more than a habit now and it was an effort to negate it.

He was accosted by two women, stripping him of his jackets. He yelped in alarm and held in a hiss. They took his hat and he flattened his ears, looking around wildly.

No one said anything or acted like he was anything special. Their hospitality wasn’t a threat, it was their version of a welcome. They handed him a cup and started to fill it from a teapot. Stephen made sure to thank everyone before turning back to the man and trying to start his conversation again. He was sure he sounded like a broken record but the longer he stayed here the more he was sure this was Kamar-Taj.

“Thank you, Ancient One, for agreeing to see… “

The older man stood and wandered off before Stephen could even finish his sentence.

“...me.”

“You’re very welcome,” the woman pouring his tea said.

Stephen wasn’t sure this wasn’t some giant practical joke. He looked at the people in the room, trying to understand.

“The Ancient One,” the man who brought him here said, barely hiding his smile.

“Thank you, Master Mordo,” the woman said and now Stephen knew the name of the man who saved him. “Thank you, Master Hamir,” she said to the man Stephen had thought was the Ancient One.

“Mister Strange,” the Ancient One greeted. 

Stephen wasn’t sure how she knew his name. He corrected her on instinct, “Doctor, actually.”

“Well, no, not anymore, surely.”

Stephen wanted to hiss at her but held it in. He had a Ph.D., he was, in fact, still a doctor. They could take away his medical license but they couldn’t take away his title.

“You’ve undergone many procedures,” she said, ignoring his irritation. “Three in addition to the original, if I’m not mistaken. I imagine you’d have gone through more if you’d managed to practice longer and had made it to the top of your career.”

He closed his eyes and ground his teeth. He couldn’t blow this so he needed to keep his mouth shut. 

To distract himself from his ire he took a sip of tea.

It was quite good. And the Ancient One hadn’t filled his cup so full that it spilled in his shaking hands.

They spoke of Pangborn and afterward he had more questions than were answered. He reminded himself that he needed to keep an open mind. 

The habit people here had of talking in riddles was irritating. When dealing with medical procedures, it was best to be clear. Then again, this was a different country and set-up.

 _Open mind, open mind, open mind,_ he mentally chanted as she showed him chakras and acupuncture but he lost it at the picture of the MRI.

It looked like Pangborn hadn’t been forgiving after all. This was the cruelest thing anyone had ever done to him.

He was broke, stuck in a foreign country and he had no one to call for help.

The Ancient One mocked him, continuing to talk about faith healing as if it were anything other than a placebo effect.

There was nothing left to lose. Stephen took out his anger on the fraud.

“There is no such thing as spirit! We are made of matter and nothing more. We’re just another tiny momentary speck within an indifferent universe.”

Her expression, instead of looking ashamed or even upset by his words, looked wry as if his rant was no different than a temper tantrum of a particularly stupid toddler.

“You think too little of yourself.”

Stephen was done. He spat angry words at her, he knew he was going to be thrown out into the uncaring world, chewed up and spit out and abandoned by whatever gods this lunatic worshiped when he was finished but it didn’t matter.

“I see through you!” He poked her in the chest, it wasn’t the painful jab he’d intended.

She took his hand, gripping it tightly and twisting it. It might have been painful but before he could register it she hit him in the chest with quick practiced movements. He fell backward and found himself outside his body. Before him, Mordo held his clearly unconscious body and the Ancient One’s hands were raised. He looked, he had form, it was transparent but unmistakably his. There was a bright gold line emanating from his chest, glowing as it stretched out of the building. 

Her hands moved back and he was pulled back into his body. His heart was racing.

“Well, that _is_ interesting,” she said.

He ignored her nonsense. “What did you just do to me?”

“I pushed your astral form out of your physical form.”

“What’s in the tea?” Oh, god, he’d been drugged. That’s why he didn’t smell or hear anything amiss. “Psilocybin? LSD?” Why use hallucinogens and mess with him in the first place?

“It’s just tea,” she said pleasantly. “With a little honey.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” He didn’t understand. Was she being cruel?

“To show you just how much you don’t understand,” she said. Her hand shot out, gripping his head with her thumb pressed between his eyebrows. “Open your eye.”

He yelled and she talked as he saw fantastic and terrifying impossible places. Mordo had caused her to call him back, worried about his heart rate. But she hadn’t stopped until she wanted to. 

Stephen fell to his knees and begged her to teach him. The things she said made sense, thoughts did shape reality and physics did allow for infinite universes. It was science and yet it wasn’t.

She said no and he found himself thrown bodily from the building, his clothing tossed out as if an afterthought. 

He pounded on the door, only just holding in a scream at the pain he caused to his hands.

There was no response and when he calmed down he didn’t hear anyone on the other side. They were gone and had no interest in coming back.

He scrambled for his hat and jackets then, common sense catching up to him. After pulling them on, he warily watched of every passerby as he curled up on the doorstep, trying to make himself as small as possible.

There was no way he was going to leave—even if he starved to death here on the street. They had to come out sometime.

***

The street cleared as night fell. Cat people didn’t have true night vision. It was a good thing too, otherwise, he’d be suffering every time the light was bright. But he could still make out more than the average person.

A dog limped past. Clearly homeless and in a great deal of pain. Stephen loved dogs (though they didn’t always love him).

He took pity on the poor creature. He patched it up as best he could, ripping off a strip of his most worn jacket. There was no water, disinfectant or anything to clean the wound though there was a stick a little way down the street and used it to help steady the leg. He apologized to the dog for not doing more before letting it hobble away, as if that could somehow make him feel less useless.

He heard footsteps on the other side of the door and he begged, hoping they’d hear his plea, “Please.”

The door opened behind him and he fell backward. Even though he’d hoped he hadn’t actually believed they’d come for him. Why would they?

“Thank you.”

***

The Ancient One told him that she’d train him but that he’d have to take care of his “issues” once he’d become an adept before she’d let him advance.

He didn’t understand and tried to ask for more information but she was cryptic and he got no real answers. He found that she was like this with everyone and although it was annoying he didn’t take it personally. It was just how she was.

No one treated him any differently because of what he was. Mordo had modified some robes for his tail but didn’t act like he’d done anything special.

“It was no different than adjusting hems,” he said dismissively. 

Stephen knew it wasn't and appreciated it greatly.

He borrowed a laptop and wrote an email to Christine, apologizing and letting her know he was ok. He also checked on his bankruptcy filing. He wanted that done with when he’d fixed his hands and was ready to return. Thankfully he had paid off his student loans, the only smart thing he’d done with his money.

Christine’s reply was short. 

**Glad you’re ok.**

Stephen took it as a win. She’d responded, which was more than he’d thought she would and it wasn’t a one-word response just to let him know she’d received the email. She still cared, there was hope that they could be friends once more.

***

A part of his life that wasn’t going so well was his training. He read everything he could and he understood the process but his hands shook too much to do more than cause a few sparks. It was infuriating. 

“Master Hamir,” the Ancient One called when he voiced his frustration to her.

She hadn’t been around much, spending time with other students who were more talented than he was. He was used to being the best and now he had fallen behind students that had joined after.

When Master Hamir proved that his hands had nothing to do with using magic he only got more frustrated. The Ancient One took it upon herself to push him past his mental block.

He didn’t think getting dumped on Everest was an appropriate motivator, but he had to admit it was effective.

Mordo took pity on him and helped him to his room. Stephen buried himself under blankets and held his ears in his hands. He knew he didn’t have frostbite, he hadn’t been out there long enough to do real damage. But whenever his ears were cold he was cold. He shivered until he was warm enough to draw himself a bath.

The accomplishment cleared his lingering depression and he decided to clean himself up. He trimmed his hair and shaved his face. Electric razors never cut the thick stiff fur on his face close enough and he couldn’t bear the stubble. A goatee was a good compromise and seemed appropriate.

His improved mood made his libido return with a vengeance. He borrowed a laptop again and decided to see what Stark had been up to. 

Surprisingly, the man had been out of the news for a bit. He was seen in public often enough that no one had started any rumors that he was dying again. He was just busy building a skyscraper in New York. The Stark Building was an eyesore as far as Stephen was concerned but he could admit that he thought all skyscrapers were ugly and as far as they went it wasn’t the worst. The planned design was unique enough to stand out but not so unusual that it ruined the skyline.

With shaking hands Stephen pulled his cock free. He closed his eyes and listened to Stark as he gave a radio interview. The Stark Tower would be run on his arc reactor technology. He tried to keep the technical terminology to a minimum but he slipped up when he got excited. His voice took on a false note whenever the interviewer got too personal and Tony lost patience when the idiot wouldn’t stop pushing for gossip on his love life. 

God, Stark sounded pissed when the radio personality overtly implied that he was sleeping with Ms. Potts. It might have gone over a little better if the words, “most expensive lay in history,” hadn’t been uttered.

There was a sound of unbridled rage and then the audio file ended.

Stephen closed his eyes and imagined Stark making that sound in the bedroom. Stephen teasing him until he snapped and attacked. Stark was stronger than him, had more fighting experience, Stephen would be helpless if Stark wanted to turn the tables.

Unmistakable sounds filled Stephen’s room. He was too embarrassed to ask for anything slippery to ease the way but he knew spit worked in a pinch.

Oh, _god._

A small sturdy body crawling all over his own, pushing him into the mattress, rubbing their erections together, holding Stephen's hands over his head… grunting desperately.

Stephen cried out in pain.

Fuck his hands!

He shook his head and stretched his fingers. He had a different and unsteady grip and the pins in his bones rubbed against the inside of his fingers. Jesus, it was screaming agony.

He changed up the grip and went back to his fantasy.

Tony nibbled on his collarbone. He raised up on his knees, ass in the air, tail curled up, ears twitching, brown eyes meeting Stephens, lips lifting into a dark smile, a sharp white fang gleaming in candlelight.

“Tease,” Stephen murmured and spread his legs.

Tony arched his back further, little pink tongue flicking out and tasting Stephen’s skin as he made his way down… down… _down…_

“Goddamnit!” Stephen swore loudly.

He couldn’t do it. It wasn’t going to work. It was a race against time and pain and he’d fallen too far behind to finish now.

A shuffling in the room next to his reminded him that he wasn’t in his New York apartment, that if there were silencing spells he didn’t know them and he really didn’t want someone finding him like this.

***

The Ancient One refused to promote him and allow him to study further even though Mordo had already modified the red robes.

“The next stage involves complex spells and travel to other dimensions. Although your consciousness can make the trip I’m afraid your body cannot.”

“Why not?” Stephen demanded.

“You’ve formed a soul-bond but not completed the ritual. If your body got too far away the thread would snap and put your other half in danger.”

“What?” Stephen didn’t understand. “What’s a soul-bond?” It was the first question that came to his mind but before he’d even finished asking it he had a million more.

“You’ve found someone compatible,” the Ancient One said, walking around him and looking at something beyond his physical form. 

Instantly Stephen’s mind went to Tony. (When did he start thinking of Stark by his first name, anyway?)

The Ancient One smiled knowingly. “There are many ways to form a soul-bond. Most of them require some sort of magical intervention no matter how compatible the two—or more—are. I’m guessing whatever caused this,” she tugged gently on one of his ears, “was magical in nature and has given your people a way around the spells.”

That really raised more questions than it answered. 

“I don’t know what you did to start the ritual or what it involved but I told the librarian to pull all our books on soul-bonding for you.”

Stephen knew she knew—or at least suspected—how to complete his soul-bond. There had to be a reason she was having him read. And he was torn between wanting to get the ritual done so he could finish his training and get his hands back already and wanting to know everything there was about what he was going to do. He was tempted to just have her tell him what he needed to do and read everything about it after. 

Then he remembered just exactly what he’d done in the short time he’d spent with Tony Stark and he was very glad he was wearing loose robes.

“I’ll just…” he pointed his thumb in the direction of the library, trying to keep his awkwardness to himself.

She turned from him with a knowing smile and Stephen rushed off. He’d make a quick stop by his room before picking up the books.

***

Said quick stop turned into more frustration and pain so he was in a foul mood when he sat down to an empty table to read.

 **There are different types of soul-bonds:** ****  
**-Physical: the people involved can feel when each other are in physical pain and danger.** ****  
**-Emotional: the people involved can feel each other’s emotions.** ****  
**-Mental: the people involved can hear each other’s thoughts.** ****  
**-Spiritual: the people involved can sense when each other’s souls are threatened.** **  
****-Combination: soul-bonds can involve one to all of the above links. They do not need to be created at the same time.**

The book went on to detail how each bond was formed. The physical bond, the one he suspected he shared with Tony, was formed by the exchange of blood while having sex. The situation didn’t exactly fit, the book described the sex required in explicit detail and it was blood to blood, but if the Ancient One was right and cat people had their own version of magic then they would be different, wouldn’t they?

A study of the other books proved that there were a lot of ways to form physical (and other) bonds. Still, most involved sharing blood and one—he guessed based on some of the untranslatable words meant it wasn’t for humans—involved biting. 

He wondered if the half-bond was on his side or on Stark’s. He hadn’t felt any chest pain when Stark was dying but he’d had that headache (which had dulled to an easily ignorable pressure but still wasn’t gone). He really hoped Tony hadn’t been in agony because of his accident. 

Stephen realized that if he completed this bond that he’d be in pain every time the hero was and that Stark probably had chronic pain from his reactor. Stephen himself had chronic pain in his hands. Sharing pain didn’t really seem like a good idea. Some of the books indicated that each person could help lessen the pain for the other(s) but Stephen rather thought that with their situations they’d break even at best. And, at worst, Stark would be out hero-ing while Stephen was in surgery and get injured, inadvertently killing Stephen’s patient when Stephen reacted.

One of the books spoke of broken bonds, though hadn’t mentioned the process. The Ancient One had said that his body couldn’t continue with magic with the bond in place. She hadn’t said that he couldn’t break it.

That might be the best option. Stephen didn’t think he could get anywhere near Tony Stark to complete the bond or if his plan to do so (have Tony bite him while he orgasmed) would even work. And how exactly would he accomplish that in the first place? 

“Hey, Stark, remember me? That doctor that took advantage of you? Want to get me off and bite me hard enough to make me bleed? Probably best if you swallow some of the blood too while you’re at it. Why? I need to bind our souls together so I can use magic and get my hands back so I can stop being a broke, useless, homeless person.”

Stephen scoffed at himself.

“Well, I wouldn’t say _that,”_ a voice said from behind.

Stephen turned to see an adept in red robes shelving books. The man's expression led Stephen to believe he wasn't mocking or judging him.

“Yeah,” Stephen said and rubbed his face. The adept was still looking at him curiously so he decided to introduce himself. “Doctor Strange,” he said, extending a hand.

The man gave him a flat look in return, his hands full of books. “Wong.”

Stephen pulled his hand back. He didn’t take offense, he hadn’t stood so it wasn’t like he was really using his manners in the first place.

“Just Wong? Like... Adele?” Wong’s expression didn’t change. “Or... Aristotle.”

Nothing.

“Drake. Bono.” 

Still nothing.

“...Eminem.”

Well, this wasn’t going well.

“People used to find me funny,” Stephen sulked.

“Did they work for you?” Wong retorted.

 _Yes._

Stephen huffed. Well, this Wong clearly knew his way around. Maybe he could convince the man to hand over some more advanced books despite the Ancient One’s stipulations.

“Here,” Wong said, dropping a book on Stephen’s pile before Stephen even finished the thought.

**जादू और टूटते बंधन**

“What’s this?”

“Hindi,” Wong said before wandering off.

Stephen sighed heavily. It was possible Wong was messing with him but it was equally likely that he was being helpful and got a kick out of being enigmatic. Either way, Stephen needed to get a computer and see if Google Translate worked with pictures or if he’d have to get a dictionary and learn the language.

***

It was a book about breaking bonds. Stephen frowned at the translation of the spell that he thought would break his physical soul-bond. He didn’t know if it would work with them and there was always a risk that his translation was wrong in the first place.

But, what was he going to do? He didn’t exactly have a way to get in contact with Tony— _Stark_ —and even if he did—and Stark didn’t think he was crazy when he explained what was going on—would someone like that want to be stuck with someone like him? Maybe, when Stephen was a surgeon, he’d had a chance. He was the best, a genius at the top of his field and able to help people. He might have been worthy then.

Then again, Stark had changed after his kidnapping and became a hero who helped others even when it hurt him. Stephen had thought himself better than that and then used the man’s generosity to further his own career where instead of helping people he sought fame and actually thought about withholding a procedure that could save lives out of bitterness and spite.

He hadn’t been worthy of Tony then either.

With that thought Stephen moved his hands, starting the spell. He looked into himself and examined the line attached to his heart. 

One of the books had described the types of bonds but Stephen didn’t understand what they’d meant until seeing his bond himself.

If he wasn’t mistaken Stark and he had perfect compatibility. In more romanticized terms they might be called soulmates. In reality, it was more like soul-matches. Souls weren’t split in half like in Greek mythology.

“Oookay,” Stephen said, eyeing the bond warily.

He took the bond in his hands after casting the first round of spells. They'd created a barrier around his body, encasing him in orangish symbols that made it hard to see. The bond felt warm and spoke of comfort, understanding, home, and sexual satisfaction. It turned his stomach to destroy it but he had to. He started pulling on it so he could cut it as close to himself as possible. His chest locked up and he choked.

“STOP!”

Stephen looked up, finding himself back in his physical body with tears running down his cheeks.

Wong was looking at him in horror and Mordo stood next to him looking livid.

“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?!” Wong asked, running up and slamming the book he’d given him closed before pulling it to close his chest.

“I was breaking the bond.” Stephen wiped his eyes, trying to figure out what just happened. “I was just doing exactly what it said in the book.”

“And what did the book say about the dangers of performing that ritual?!” Wong snapped, body half-turned to protect the book from him.

“I hadn't gotten to that part yet,” Stephen admitted.

“You could have killed yourself. Even worse, you would have killed your mate! Soulmate bonds can’t just be torn apart willy-nilly.”

Stephen winced at the word “mate.” He knew Wong meant soulmate but it rubbed him the wrong way. He hated when it was implied that he was an animal. And the term soulmate was overly romantic and too inaccurate for him even though it was used in the book.

Then it sunk in that he was killing Stark.

“It would have killed him?”

“Yes,” Mordo said emphatically. “The bond is incomplete and only the person who initiated an incomplete bond can break it. The energy backlash is very harmful if not protected against.”

“That’s… problematic,” Stephen said. Someone could go around initiating bonds and breaking them with little risk to themselves. Didn’t exactly seem fair. The book on breaking bonds hadn't said anything about casting protection spells around the other person. Stephen assumed the spells were to protect the area from the energy emitted by him, not protect him from the energy emitted from the bond breaking.

“Why did you even bother giving me the book, then?” Stephen asked. He felt uncomfortable and a little sick.

“I wanted you to understand the consequences of your actions. This book details what happens if you neglect your bond,” Wong said. “I thought you should know what you were doing to your mate by leaving yourselves in this state.”

“But you didn’t even bother to read the warnings of breaking the bond,” Mordo said. He was clearly disappointed.

“Well, they should really put the warnings _before_ the spell,” Stephen said as if it were some sort of defense.

Wong bonked him over the head with the book before setting it back down in front of him.

“Read the whole thing and try not to do something else stupid.”

Stephen rubbed his ear and thought that if this is all he got then they were letting him off easy.

***

It took a month to read everything. Stephen felt sick with each new thing he learned. There was no guarantee, what with them not being homo sapiens, but just based on what he was feeling Stark wouldn’t like the scent of other people, be in pain, feel incomplete and be missing him. There might be more. Some of the side effects the book described turned Stephen’s stomach.

He frowned as he wondered how was he going to fix this.

A loud chime rang out and Stephen flattened his ears against his head with a wince.

“New York,” Wong said to Mordo and they both hurried away.

Stephen stood and followed after, wondering what was going on and if there was a way for him to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hindi should translate to: Magic and Breaking Bonds. My knowledge of Hindi is non-existent but Google Translate is a thing. So, if what I copy-pasted is a travesty, leave a comment and I’ll fix it.
> 
> Also, the librarian before Wong’s name was literally The Librarian. So, that was fun to try and work around. Thanks, Marvel.


	8. Avenging - Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You read the title, you know what's coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine), my beta, helped me out. And, as per usual, I wandered off and added a bunch of stuff before posting.

Tony was still miffed that Fury didn’t want him on his little team. Being that judgemental of a guy who was dying and hadn’t had sex in over six months seemed a little harsh. He thought he was doing pretty well, all things considered.

Now it was two (almost three) years and he hadn’t smelled anyone he could stand to be in an elevator ride with and, god, that was depressing. His playboy reputation was shot. Everyone took this as a sure sign he was sleeping with Pepper. She was sick of it and his attitude. He’d lost track of how many times she told him to go get laid. Tony thought it was a case of sour grapes when he finally got it through her head that he wasn’t interested in pursuing her. Then Tony saw the tabloid. Her picture splashed across the front page. She was on a date and the journalist went on for three whole pages about how she was a cheating gold digger.

Tony tried after that. He went to galas and fundraisers but he always came home alone. The smell of other people’s arousal made him gag.

He gave it up as a bad job. Perhaps if he was on a different coast than his company and Pepper people might just give it a rest. It didn’t take much to convince Pepper to help him design and build Stark Tower. It was going to be a long process but it would be worth it to get out of California and change the scenery. Maybe it would help.

One desperate night when he’d had a bit too much to drink and was seriously considering buying a strap on for one of his suits (the dildo he’d stuck to a chair, and the one in the shower, and the one in his nightstand were no longer cutting it) he had JARVIS look up if Strange had contacted him. It turned out he had, five times from a new hospital—all professional inquiries made after it was announced that he was dying. Tony wished he’d known sooner. Strange hadn’t been in contact since but Tony wouldn’t expect anything different. It was his turn to make a move.

That morning Tony threw caution into the wind and called the hospital. He’d say he was interested in that surgery as an excuse if he had to. But he was informed that Doctor Strange was no longer employed there. The receptionist didn’t have any other information to give him. Tony went online to see if he changed hospitals again but there was nothing. News articles informed him the doctor had been in a car accident on the way to an awards ceremony. After that there was nothing.

Tony dug deeper, taking advantage of poor server security to search the doctor out.

Many surgeries, a bankruptcy… then nothing. No records of him signing a new lease after his eviction, bank account emptied then closed, no phone.

Tony gulped. Had the man been living on the street? Or even worse, had the stress been too much? Had he killed himself?

The thought made Tony whimper. By saving his career had Tony inadvertently killed him? After all, if he wasn’t a doctor he wouldn’t have changed hospitals, gotten the surgery that prompted the award, hadn’t been driving, gotten in that accident…

No. Tony shook his head. As much as he hated relying on his gut instead of logic he had a feeling that the man was out there somewhere.

Deciding that privacy was overrated, Tony had JARVIS hack every email account belonging to a Stephen Strange and cross-reference the contacts to anyone Strange might know. He figured the breach of trust would be forgiven if Strange was in some sort of trouble and Tony helped him out. It wasn’t unusual for homeless cat people to disappear.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long. Strange wasn’t a common last name. Even though no emails required a name or even verified the one given but, as Tony had thought, Strange wasn’t overly cautious.

There was a recent email to a Doctor Christine Palmer. It was a little note informing her that he was ok. Her response was cool but not cold and Tony swallowed, suppressing the jealousy at the possibility they were lovers. 

Tony tracked the IP, he might be being slightly paranoid but he wanted to know exactly where Strange had ended up just in case the email was coerced.

His heart stopped when he came up empty. There was no source. No matter what he and JARVIS tried they couldn’t find anything. It was like the email originated from thin air. Yes, he could see the Nepal based MTA, but that really didn’t mean anything. They could be using a VPN. Without being able to get the original IP he had nothing.

There weren’t any emails regarding plane tickets and Tony didn’t want to hack every airline database to see if they had a passenger record of Stephen Strange (or see if the government had logged his passport) so he looked into Doctor Palmer.

***

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” Tony said.

“Of course,” Doctor Palmer said. “I must say, I was a little surprised to hear from you.”

“Well, I saw the article on the laminectomy procedure you published, the Palmer-Strange technique.”

“Oh, right.” 

“I also saw Doctor Strange’s procedure, the one yours is based on,” Tony said. He needed to go about this carefully.

Her lips pursed and she took a second before she said, “Yes, it was a breakthrough that wasn’t appreciated.” Tony couldn’t tell if she was upset with him or with the paper’s reception, though he guessed it was the latter.

“I searched around and found some doctors willing to perform the procedure but they’d never done it before. As far as I could see Doctor Strange was the only doctor willing to do it and is the most accomplished at it.”

Tony could see the effort it took for her to remain civil. He knew she knew what he was angling for and she was warring with herself. When she remained silent he continued.

“I saw that he no longer works at this hospital but I couldn’t find where he went next. I was hoping you could tell me.” Tony thought it was best to just come out with it before she lost all patience.

“Doctor Strange no longer practices medicine,” Doctor Palmer said.

Tony pouted. “That’s too bad. Do you happen to know where he went? I’m willing to pay for him to do the surgery even if he’s not associated with a hospital.”

“No,” Doctor Palmer said and Tony couldn't tell if she was lying. How frustrating!

“That’s a shame,” Tony said. He wasn’t willing to let his lead go this easily. “Have you done the procedure, by chance? I know there’s a lot of similarities in the approaches so you’re my next choice.”

That seemed to perk her up. “I’ve assisted Stephen—”

Tony felt his lip curl but willed his expression back into neutrality.

“—I mean, Doctor Strange—on several of his surgeries and have performed my laminectomy dozens of times. The approaches are very similar.”

“Wonderful, let’s get the process started, shall we?”

Tony wasn’t sure if he was actually going to go through with it, but if he wanted more face time with Doctor Palmer he needed a good excuse.

***

Construction on Stark Tower hadn’t taken long at all, between him in the suit and an almost unlimited budget it was like the building appeared overnight. Pepper had spent as much time if not more on his little pet project than he had and she was happy to celebrate with him when it was finished. Tony felt a bit uncomfortable about it at first but he warmed to the idea quickly. It was nice spending time with a friend. Pepper had gotten over whatever problem she had with him and Tony had to admit he was lonely. The Malibu house had been distressingly empty when she moved out and he hadn’t found an assistant after Agent Romanoff had infiltrated his company. Apparently, she was supposed to position herself as his personal assistant and hack his private servers. Thankfully, he hadn’t taken the bait. JARVIS was more than able to thwart outside influences but security being breached from the inside wasn’t a possibility Tony had thought of. It was an unforgivable oversight that he had corrected immediately. 

Tony knew he had some trust issues. But, after everything that had happened he figured he was allowed. Obie, a father figure, had tried to kill him. Rhodey stole a suit Tony would have given him if he’d just asked (after all, he was making the thing specifically for him). He’d wanted his friend to be Iron Man when he no longer could. SHIELD only wanted to use him when it was convenient for them and keep him under their thumb when it wasn’t. And, god, don’t even go into his childhood.

Happy was a good friend. And Pepper was trustworthy, even when she was furious with him. Tony couldn’t help but wonder how different his life would be if he had been able to continue courting her.

A stupid thought, especially when their little party was interrupted by Pepper’s beau. 

Phil Coulson was one of the few members of SHIELD that Tony didn’t hate. The man was sincere and honestly just wanted what was best. Tony could respect that even if it might end with him being tased. It hadn’t happened yet—yet being the keyword there. It also helped that Coulson hadn’t been a complete dick to him while he was on house arrest (though the metal in his chest stung a bit whenever they crossed paths) and, most importantly, treated Pepper right. 

Tony was more than happy to leave him outside, it’s not like he could get in without one of them letting him. Even if SHIELD hadn’t been removed from SI’s servers, Romanov hadn’t gotten into his personal computer and the top of Stark Tower was all his. Pepper had complete access as Tony’s closest friend but she understood that the tower was Tony’s home and that just because she could come and go didn’t mean that her boyfriend had the same privilege. Unfortunately, she let him in now. She scolded Tony as Coulson rode the elevator up about listening when there were important discussions or something, Tony wasn’t really listening. He was dreading whatever was about to be dropped on his lap.

Coulson came with a SHIELD computer full of information. The tablet-like device responded well enough but Tony was distracted by thoughts of all the improvements he could make. 

Pepper gave him puppy dog eyes and Tony agreed to help SHIELD with poor grace. He really didn’t want anything to do with the shady quasi-government agency, but he owed them for their help in his rediscovering of his dad’s element. (Which wouldn’t’ve even been necessary if the bastard had just talked to him, once, you know, _ever._ ) 

Tony looked at the sheer number of files on the computer and groaned. It was going to be a long night.

***

Luckily, the little tablet was connected to SHIELD servers and made those hackable. The shadow organization didn’t keep anything interesting on this server but he could wait. JARVIS was learning their security protocols and patterns so hacking the other server would be easier. After all, one good turn deserved another.

***

Tony used his link to override the speakers in the jet Romanoff was flying and give himself an entrance. Being a public figure was all about presentation.

After blasting Loki back he landed a little roughly, cracking the bricks below him. He made a mental note to contact someone about the repairs (he was very familiar with breaking things and getting a bill. Usually this happened when he was drunk but…) before focusing every weapon he had on the enemy.

Wisely, Loki put his hands up and surrendered.

Captain America was out of breath when he came up.

“Mister Stark,” he greeted.

Oh, goodie, he’d heard of him. SHIELD had probably given him the whole file. Well, that’d be interesting.

Tony tried to reign it in, to not be as obnoxious as he usually was on the jet. It didn’t seem to work. Probably because Captain America kept staring at his ears despite trying not to. Tony wished that he had only made the faceplate of his armor retractable instead of the whole helmet but he’d wanted full use of his ears. He had enough trouble hearing with the one still hanging awkwardly.

“Fury didn’t tell me they were bringing you in,” Cap said, giving him a distrustful look.

Yep, read the file and believed every word. Not that it was wrong, per se, it was just missing some things about his personality. Like, every good aspect of it.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of things Fury doesn’t tell you,” Tony retorted. 

He wondered if he was being unfair. Everything he’d heard about Steve Rogers was second hand too, from his father and SHIELD’s file. But, then everything he’d heard was about how amazing Captain America was and how far Tony fell short. And, unfortunately, Tony had done a lot of things that he wasn’t proud of and an internet search wasn’t going to convince anyone of his good qualities. Tony would have preferred them to never have heard of each other at all. 

“Yeah,” Captain America agreed, eyes still fixed on Tony’s ears.

Tony sniffed discreetly and discovered that Rogers didn’t smell all that horrible. Maybe that was because the man wasn’t aroused. Going by his expression, he was mostly confused. Tony thought back to the file and realized that the photo Fury had of him cropped the top of his head off. It might list that he was a cat person in there, he hadn’t done more than skim his own before moving on, but even if it did it wasn’t like Captain Popsicle knew what that was. Tony was probably the first cat person he'd ever seen.

A loud thud interrupted their conversation. Tony grabbed his helmet and opened the hatch. He really didn’t want whatever was out there to break through the plane.

A buff man in a red cape landed in the bay and hit Tony with a mallet before taking off with Loki.

Urgh, this was supposed to be an easy in and out. Grab Loki, collect the cube from him and done. Pay back a favor and move on, hopefully never hear from Fury or his lackeys ever again (except Coulson, but he’d do whatever made Pepper happy).

Tony could hear Romanoff talk to Rogers through the comms after he’d left.

“They’re basically gods,” she said.

“There’s only one god, ma’am, and he doesn’t dress like that.”

Tony gagged. He’d been slightly disappointed in his, _“I have a plan—attack,”_ line but as far as the stupid exit lines contest went Rogers won.

***

It took Tony a bit longer to get out of his suit than it normally would thanks to Point Break. The god could pack a mean punch. 

Coulson chatted with him and while Tony understood that the agent had responsibilities when the world was blowing up and that Pepper was constantly jetting around the world on SI business, he wanted to make sure that they balanced work and life. He made sure the other man knew that Tony was happy to fly him around if transportation was an issue. Obviously, Pepper couldn’t, not on the company's dime, but Tony didn’t have that problem. His money was his and he had more than enough of it to share.

Tony caught the tail end of the conversation Cap was leading and took it upon himself to answer the questions. He planted a bug to answer some questions of his own in the process. He wasn’t going to let SHIELD have an item as powerful as the Tesseract without making sure they wouldn’t continue to be incredibly stupid with it.

Instead of being impressed with Tony’s knowledge people looked irritated. The one agent, Hot-Lady-He-Couldn’t-Remember-The-Name-Of-If-He-Even-Knew-It-In-The-First-Place, actually glared and snapped at him. As if they weren’t the ones who gave him the information in the first place!

Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one who did the reading. Doctor Banner was there and, bonus, he actually had a brain.

Fury wanted them (Banner and himself, not any of the idiots) to find the cube and Tony was more than happy to indulge him while his virus worked. Working with Banner might actually be fun, it was rare he met anyone he could hold a real conversation with.

And, if he spent any more time with the star-spangled moron he feared he’d roll his eyes so hard they’d fall out of his head. And, yes, ok, maybe it’s unreasonable to be mad that someone is excited about understanding references after being frozen for seventy years but, god, something about that man just rubbed him the wrong way.

Banner already had a lab going and he led Tony to it. Tony was about the same height Banner was and it was nice to not feel small. If he had to hang around with Cap and Thor too long he might finally develop a complex. Banner tried to make himself seem even smaller than he was while Tony usually made himself larger. Tony wondered if Banner was like this before the accident.

Whether he was or wasn’t, Tony didn't care much. He liked Banner. He didn’t smell horrible, didn’t stare at Tony’s ears or tail and didn’t take offense to his jokes or attitude. Banner respected him and Tony respected him as well. Banner’s research was interesting, almost as interesting as the man himself.

Tony found himself inviting Banner to live at the tower when all this was over. The loneliness was really getting to him, not that he’d ever tell anyone that. It wasn’t like Banner had a place to go after all this was over and Tony would love the company. He didn’t say it outright, but he made sure Banner knew that he wasn’t afraid of the Hulk. He’d seen the videos and files. Hulk wasn’t the mindless beast everyone treated him as.

Banner, to Tony’s surprise, accepted the offer. Tony contacted JARVIS and gave him access, setting him up on the floor just below his penthouse. He told Banner that they’d get a lab set up for him after they were done with all this.

Unfortunately, Mister-Mightier-Than-Thou walked in when Tony started going into flirt mode.

Banner might not have been bothered by being poked but he did tense up when Cap started being righteous all over the place.

God, Tony really needed to chill out. What was it about the man that made Tony so irrationally angry?

Then Cap called his building ugly and Tony found himself wondering why he was even trying to overcome his prejudice in the first place. Clearly, Rogers wasn’t having the same problem. Anything Tony said the captain would look to Banner to confirm or deny.

Tony really didn’t want to think this was about his ears. It was entirely possible Cap didn’t like him because SHIELD told him not to—not outright, of course, even Spangles would figure that one out. The file wasn’t flattering and modern times were a lot more complicated than the era Rogers was from. There was a steep learning curve in trusting the internet so it’s not like he could find the facts for himself. Of course, he came from a time where human rights weren’t a thing so he could just imagine what Mr. 1940’s thought of a cat-boy.

Thankfully, Banner sided with Tony in the dick measuring contest and Captain Oblivious stomped off to go pout elsewhere.

Tony decided that Cap’s problem was just that, his problem. He wasn’t going to change himself or prostrate himself before a man just because he expected it. Tony wasn’t one of his little Howling Commandos, this wasn’t the 40’s and he wasn’t here on Cap’s dime. Tony owed him nothing more than the respect he was shown. 

The mood lightened before the door even shut and Tony gleefully shared more blueberries with his new friend. The talk wasn’t as lighthearted as before and Tony didn’t try flirting again. No, he was going to do this right. 

It was science bros time.

***

Which was fun while it lasted.

Fury came in and got all snippy about the virus until his war dog came in and dropped a weapon on the table.

Tony thought they were finally on the same side, that Captain America would see what type of people he’d placed his trust in and they could start over. They were both superheroes, each the first of their age, they should be friends. Or, at the very least, allies.

He honestly thought there was a chance until Rogers started in on him, as if he was the one building these weapons. He knew that Tony didn’t do that anymore, he even said so. It was as if Rogers thought that people weren’t capable of change. And getting upset about how Tony made money? _Really?_ As if he wasn’t just following in his father’s footsteps. (Howard, it seemed, had done nothing wrong, though.)

“Why shouldn’t the guy let off a little steam?” Tony asked when Fury started walking up on Banner. Tony was used to being picked on, he didn’t care for people picking on his friends.

“You know damn well why. Back off!” Steve said, brushing Tony’s arm away.

Tony hadn’t even realized he reached out to him. His head was fuzzy. He responded but he didn’t even know what he’d said.

“Yeah, big man in a suit of armor.” Cap circled him. “Take that off, what are you?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” Tony didn’t even have to think about his answer. Rogers wasn’t asking him anything he hadn’t been asked before.

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you,” Rogers said, glaring down at him in hatred. Before Tony could respond he continued, “I’ve seen the footage, the only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play…”

Tony thought to Yinsen.

“...to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

The smell caught up to Tony and though the haze in his brain was making it hard to think Tony understood.

“I would just cut the wire,” Tony said. He knew that would mean nothing to blondie so he continued, “And I’m fairly certain that there is no one on this Earth is worth more than me. I would know, I’ve been kidnapped and held ransom enough.”

“That’s not what I—” Cap started.

“No, it wouldn’t, would it? I saw your search history, SHIELD saves these things, FYI. Little lesson in twenty-first-century history: it’s bad form to watch cat people porn. We usually don’t have a choice in making it.” He knew he wasn’t aware he was making at least two of his sex tapes.

Tony had thought that’d be enough to make Rogers back off.

“Well, none of _your_ various exploits seemed very forced. In fact, it was hard to find a video of you with your clothing on! And if you’d actually looked at my history you’d see that I didn’t look at any _porn_.” He said the word as if it was filthy. Which, to him, it probably was.

Cap stepped up on him and Tony nearly tripped trying to put some space between them.

“You know, you may not be a threat but you better stop pretending to be a hero,” Rogers said as he closed the space between them again.

Tony found himself up against a table but he wasn’t going to back down. He couldn’t cower, by stepping back had shown too much weakness. He knew better.

“A hero? Like you? You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.” Tony narrowed his eyes and bared his fangs as he pushed back into the captain's space.

“Put on the suit. Let’s go a few rounds,” Rogers said, not intimidated in the least.

“Sorry, Cap,” Tony said, popping the p. “I don’t do casual sex anymore. Not even for people with a suit kink.”

The absolute worst thing was that Rogers didn’t smell bad. He smelled good, not as good as Strange, but enough that he might actually be able to get off with him. Tony was disgusted with himself and the direction his thoughts kept taking. Seriously, could he stop thinking about getting laid for two seconds? Sure, this was the longest he’d gone without since he hit puberty but this was just ridiculous. 

Thor started laughing and Rogers finally backed off a few steps and gave him some space. Tony’s heart was racing and his head was killing him too much to appreciate it.

“In case you needed to kill me,” Banner said. “But you can’t. I know, I tried.”

Tony’s attention snapped to him. He wanted to move to his friend, to comfort him, but he was worried that’d draw Rogers’s attention. He could do nothing but listen to his friend bared his heart to them.

“Doctor Banner,” Rogers said and Tony tensed, ready for a fight. If that idiot said one hurtful thing he’d—

“Put down the scepter.”

Banner seemed confused, like he wasn’t even aware he was holding it.

Tony was surprised too.

He wanted to go to his friend now that the tension had been broken, but the Tesseract had been located. He decided he would go, collect the damn thing and get out of here. He felt like he was going insane. Once SHIELD had the Cube-of-Doom Tony would be free to take Banner (if he’d still come willingly) and get as far away from here as possible—as far away from Rogers as possible. 

Banner said they were volatile and he was right. This wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t do things for these people, with these people, and stay in one piece. The half of the room that didn’t hate him only tolerated him because he was useful. 

Honestly, he was a little scared that no one would stop Rogers from punching him in the face (or worse, the smell would drive him mad and he’d lose control and end up sleeping with him). Being around these people was a bad idea.

“You’re not going alone,” Rogers said, putting his arm up to stop him.

Tony slapped it away with excessive force, not that he thought the super-soldier felt it, “You’re gonna stop me?” he challenged.

“Put on the suit, let’s find out.”

“I’m not afraid to hit an old man.” No, he wasn’t. But he was well aware that without the suit the old man wasn’t afraid of being hit by him.

“Put on the suit,” Cap commanded, stepping into his space again.

An explosion threw him to the ground. Tony fought the flashbacks of Afghanistan.

“Yeah,” he agreed when he could think. The armor was the only thing that was going to hold off a full-blown panic attack right now.

Rogers followed him closely all the way to the hanger where he’d left his suit. Tony tried to shake him multiple times but the man wasn’t having it. Finally, Tony was able to convince the man to go to the damaged engine while he put on his armor.

Being encased in metal calmed him. He could breathe again, the suit’s air was filtered and being outside cleared his head. He was able to think again. He could smell Rogers’s stink on his clothes but he knew it’d dissipate soon enough and that the man couldn’t touch him now.

Rogers called out over the radio, announcing that he was at the engine.

Tony was tempted to take off, to leave them all there. Bruce was the only one he cared about and he had said he was basically invincible, right? Well, there was Phil, but he could swoop in and grab him as the “ship” sunk.

It’s something Rogers would think he’d do.

Unfortunately, the man wasn’t right. Tony wasn’t capable of doing that. As much as he would like Fury, Romanoff, and Rogers to die in a fiery explosion, he wasn’t to the point where he’d help them to that fate—however indirectly. 

Rogers was surprisingly helpful in getting the engine working. Well, he was basically useless (not his fault, technology had changed drastically) but he took direction well and he did eventually manage to pull the lever so Tony could get out.

Tony had the fleeting thought that the captain and he could work together as long as they weren’t in the same room. An image of the Glow-Stick-of-Horrors flashed in his mind but he didn’t pursue it. He needed to do his job, he could think about everything else later.

When Fury announced over comms that Coulson had died, something in Tony died too. All he could think about was what he was going to tell Pepper. What could have he done differently? There must have been a way to save him.

Fury had said that he wanted Avengers, he wanted heroes.

Rogers had told him that Tony that he wasn’t a hero. He was right. 

Tony would see this through, he had to. He’d said he would and he owed it to Phil.

Rogers came and talked to him. Tony didn’t care much for what he said, it didn’t matter. Cap wanted him now because he was useful. He called them soldiers, which Tony wasn’t. He wasn’t going to bow down to Fury or anyone else. Too many people in his life had tried to put him down for what he was, for who he was. Tony wanted approval, he needed it, he’d never gotten it. He wanted to fit in, to belong… He didn’t think he’d have that here.

Tony could not only see the bloodstain left by Phil, he could also smell it thick in his nostrils, cloying and metallic in the back of his throat. 

Worse than that was Rogers. Already his scent was calling to Tony and Tony was glad that Cap kept his distance. Tony could never be part of the Avengers, not while Rogers was on it. It was too dangerous. Even if Cap wasn’t interested, and he didn’t smell interested (Thank god!), Tony was. And he couldn’t risk what had happened with that doctor happening again. He knew his opinion of Rogers was unfair but sleeping with him would only make it worse.

He’d find out what was causing his libido problems after dealing with Loki. He’d put it off too long already.

***

The scepter didn’t work on him. Tony figured it was the reactor, no skin contact equals no mind control, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d look into that too, if he didn’t fall to his death. 

Pepper had wanted those super ballistic-type coated insulating glass panels and Tony had agreed to it for the floors that other people would occupy but the Stark Tower was tall and insulating glass was less energy efficient than the glass he wanted. Low-E windows with a coating he invented went into his private floors. They didn’t have the reflective pitfalls but that made them not rated well shatter-wise too. It wasn’t to code—but the city signed off of them. It wasn’t his fault if they didn’t understand the info he gave them.

Thank god he’d convinced her. The throw that sent him through his window would have broken him—possibly killed him—if the window hadn’t given way. 

Falling had been terrifying, but not as terrifying as seeing an alien army come through a hole in the sky. What was worst was watching civilians run for their lives and knowing that it was his tower that had put them in danger. 

His suit could do a lot, like saving him from falling to his death, but it was still only a suit. It couldn't take on an alien army.

He could have wept when back up arrived, but there wasn’t much an enhanced man with fists, a man with a bow and a woman with guns could do against flying armored space whales. Thor was off dealing with his brother. They needed Banner.

The Hulk showed up when his teammates were having a confab instead of fighting aliens. Tony might have complained except Cap was excellent as strategizing. His time with the Howling Commandos more than proved it. Everyone being in the same place made planning and coordinating easy.

Unfortunately, it didn’t do much for preventing collateral damage.

Tony made mental notes as he took out aliens by running them into buildings. No one could have the alien weapons or Loki would win just by the sheer fact that humans would turn them on each other at the earliest opportunity. And, yes, the aliens were causing a lot of damage, but so were they.

A hard hit had him falling out of the air. Hitting the ground with his face before somersaulting down the road reminded him that he hadn’t fixed the movement problem in the suit and he was sure he had a concussion. Being jolted in the suit wasn’t something that he would be able to fix if he was going to keep taking hits like these. He’d need to deal with that somehow.

Then Fury spoke. A nuke. 

_Breathe in, breathe out._

“Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip.”

_Breathe in, breathe out._

Yes, he did.

Maybe it’d prove to everyone that he was a hero—make him a hero—maybe it wouldn’t. In less than a minute it wouldn’t matter. He was the only one who could do this and it was the only option. He didn’t bother responding.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

“Sir, shall I try Ms. Potts?” JARVIS sounded sad and resigned.

Tony realized there was no one else to call.

_“A man who has everything, and nothing.”_

“Might as well.”

She didn’t answer.

_Sounds about right._

JARVIS had made a snarky remark about space travel when he’d tested his first suit, he hadn’t taken it seriously. Why would he need to go to space? 

The suit lost power, Tony gasped, oxygen levels dropping, the suit filtered contaminants and vented air at regular intervals. It wasn’t going to be bringing any in, not here. He couldn’t decide if he was upset that the design and materials had kept him alive to suffocate instead of killing him instantly.

When the nuke hit its target he allowed his eyes to close, disregarding the yellow-orange light bleeding around the edges of his vision.

They’d won.

And lost.

Weapons Earth shouldn’t have would spread, the city wasn’t leveled and radioactive but it’d go bankrupt on roadwork alone.

He’d failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I handled Steve as fairly as I could given I was writing Tony’s POV and had the added complications that come with this AU.
> 
> Sorry for the lesson on glass, that scene has ALWAYS bothered me. Maybe passing the curse on to you will free me from it and I can watch that scene without shrieking internally like I have been for the last 7 years.


	9. Helping - Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark, horny 24/7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time. Working POV by chapter makes things a little tricky.  
> Beta provided by [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine) and, as usual, I tweaked things before posting.

When Stephen followed Mordo and Wong through two sets of doors he found himself in a different building. Wong’s hands lit up, matching other sorcerers in the entryway and staircase. Stephen followed Mordo up some stairs to the roof.

Outside he wasn’t greeted with the familiar sights, sounds and smells of Nepal. He thought he might be in New York.

“Master Mordo,” the Ancient One greeted as she threw a fan-like burst of magic at an… oh, god, what were those things?! Were they aliens? 

“Please go help the others,” she said, conjuring more fans.

Stephen wondered if he was supposed to go with him. 

She glanced at Stephen as Mordo went downstairs. “Stay here, you’ll be needed.”

Needed for what? How could he possibly help in this situation?

“Probably. There’s a high chance of it, anyway. And it’s best not to take risks after that accident in ‘69. _Very_ unlikely,” she said.

“Must you always be so cryptic?!” Stephen asked, exasperated. He was trying not to freak out about the fact that there were aliens attacking New York.

Instead of responding to that, she asked, “Do you have a sling ring?”

Stephen checked his robes.

“No,” he said.

“Here, take mine.” She reached into her robes and handed him hers.

He turned it over in his hands. 

“You should take the rooftops, try to keep the portals out of sight and move safely. Get as close to that—” she tilted her head to the great glowing blue hole in the sky, “—as possible and take a careful look through it.”

“Why?” Stephen asked.

She just smiled enigmatically. 

“Try not to engage anything or be noticed. You’ll be no help to anyone if you’re dead.”

Stephen felt like throwing his hands up and snarling in frustration. He didn’t, but it was a close thing.

“Should I come back here when I’m done getting a good look?” he asked.

“Go to Kamar-Taj, but don’t leave New York before you should.”

“And when would that be?!” Stephen hated this. He didn’t know very many spells, couldn’t use magic to do anything impressive but make portals. He knew whatever she wanted him to do was important but why couldn’t she just give him a plain answer about anything? Whatever he needed to do would be a lot easier if she just said what it was. If he didn’t know what he was supposed to do he might not do it.

She looked into the distance and Stephen followed her line of sight. What was that? Was that… Iron Man? Was that Tony?

“Hurry,” she said.

Stephen portaled to the furthest roof he could see and did that twice more until he was on the roof of Stark Tower. There was some sort of machine creating the portal and a woman with red hair was holding a glowing stick against it. She didn’t notice the sparks from his portal and he moved as far away as he could and still see through. The Ancient One had made it clear he shouldn’t be seen.

“I can close it! Can anybody hear me? I can shut the portal down!” the woman said.

There were aliens on the other side and the emptiness of space. A whooshing sound and the sharp clang of a collision caught his attention and he watched in horror as Iron Man flew through the portal into space. The rocket he was guiding hit the alien spaceship. Iron Man went limp, highlighted by the explosion before the brightness obscured everything.

Dear god, was that a nuke?!

“No!” he gasped as the portal began to close. Tony wasn’t back!

He turned away and determinedly opened a portal on the side of the building she couldn’t see. He didn’t know why the woman was closing the blue portal, if it was fear of radiation or if it was just disregard for the man on the other side, Stephen didn’t care about the risks, Tony would die if he didn’t.

The portal opened and the Iron Man armor came through, Stephen getting bowled over in the process. He closed the portal and knelt over the armor.

“Tony?” he asked, his voice had no weight and it came out almost as a whisper.

There was no movement, the eyes of the mask were dark and Stephen was terrified. His trembling hands moved over the metal, ignoring the searing cold as he tried to find some way to get it off.

A sob escaped his lips and he felt tears spill over his eyes. It was completely irrational and overdramatic but that didn’t matter. He could _feel_ Tony dying inside that armor. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and his head was exploding. 

He looked up, searching for help, his throat too locked up to speak.

There was a flash of gold in the direction of the sanctum and Stephen remembered what the Ancient One had said. 

_Kamar-Taj._

Stephen opened another portal, body shaking as much as it had on Everest. He took the wrist of the armor and yanked, but it didn’t move an inch. It was too heavy and his grip was too weak.

He threw his hands to the side in frustration and the portal itself moved, taking him, Tony, a circle of glass and some gravel from the roof to the courtyard of Kamar-Taj.

There was no one in sight. The alarm that was sounding when he left was quiet.

Finally, he was able to swallow around the lump in his throat and he could scream for help. His throat burned from the force.

The suit jumped at the sound and the helmet popped off.

Tony’s eyes were wide and wild. He was struggling to breathe. He tried to sit up but couldn’t. His eyes found Stephen’s.

“Where—? What—? Strange?” he gasped.

“Tony?” Stephen asked, noting the bleeding cuts and bruises.

“Did we win?” he asked.

“Yeah, you won,” Stephen said.

Tony tried to sit up again.

“Don’t,” Stephen said. He didn’t know what injuries Tony had.

Tony ignored him and his subsequent pleas so Stephen helped him to his feet.

“Where are we?” Tony asked, looking around. Then he noticed the portal and he jumped back, stepping on Stephen’s toes before jumping off of them and almost falling over. Stephen winced but managed not to cry out in pain. He held Tony up and didn’t let go once he was steady.

“Kamar-Taj,” Stephen said. 

“Is… Is that Stark Tower?” Tony asked, disoriented.

“It is, it’s how I got you here. I can close it,” Stephen said. The portal seemed to be causing Tony distress.

Tony frowned before squaring his shoulders and walking through it. Stephen noted that when the portal moved it had gone inside the building. Stephen followed him, just in case the portal closed he didn’t want to leave Tony without some sort of support. Based on the head injuries he could see alone he figured Tony had a concussion.

The portal was in a bedroom and Stephen noted that they had similar tastes when it came to interior design. Well, they used to. He had become quite fond of the Kamar-Taj aesthetic.

Tony released the armor and fell face-first onto the bed.

“No,” Stephen said. “I know you’re exhausted but you need medical attention.”

Tony just groaned in response.

Stephen rolled his eyes and searched around in the drawers and closet. He found a bag and started packing Tony’s things in it, with each step he took the foot Tony had trod on throbbed.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked from the bed, voice muffled slightly from the sheets. His head was turned and he was watching Stephen.

“Packing,” Stephen said. He would make a comment about how it was obvious but head wounds were no joke. “Is there anything you need?”

“You gonna kidnap me?” Tony asked. He didn’t seem fussed by the idea and Stephen frowned. Just how serious was the injury?

“No, I’m… Well, it’s a long story.” Stephen frowned, what was he forgetting? Oh, toothbrush and—

Tony’s scent hit him like a tidal wave when he went back into the bedroom looking for the bathroom. He swallowed thickly and ignored the southward flow of blood. Now was not the time. 

“Seriously? You’re kidnapping me?”

Stephen rolled his eyes and forced himself into the other room. “No. I need to talk to you about a few things and, like I said, you need medical attention.”

“I hate hospitals,” Tony groaned.

Bag packed, Stephen pulled Tony to his feet, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other holding onto Tony’s things.

“C’mon,” he said and walked Tony through the portal.

Tony pushed his nose into the crook of Stephen’s neck and groaned obscenely. 

Stephen swallowed thickly as a shiver ran down his back. _No, he needs help first,_ he reminded himself.

Tony didn’t share the sentiment and he pawed at Stephen growling, “What are you wearing?” and demanding, “Get it off.”

Stephen dropped the bag, closed the portal, then took Tony by the wrists and pushed him off. Holding him at the shoulders an arm's length away.

“Tony, listen.” He looked into dark brown eyes, noting that the pupils weren’t overly dilated, pinpoint or uneven. “You need help.” The fog was taking over Stephen’s brain, he tried not to breathe too much.

“Yeah, help with this erec—” Tony started.

He was cut off by the Ancient One, “Welcome, Tony Stark.”

Tony took a step back and faced the woman, distrust plain on his face.

“Come,” she said, reaching out her hand. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

Tony let himself be led away but he looked back at Stephen with raised eyebrows and a smirk and mouthed, _“Taken care of?”_

Stephen rolled his eyes. He kept as much distance as he could stand between them as he followed. Just staying back a few feet hurt, however, being too close made him uncomfortable for an entirely different reason (and made it rather hard to walk).

The Ancient One explained Kamar-Taj and its purpose as a training ground for sorcerers. Tony scoffed at the idea of magic, much like Stephen had. Unlike with Stephen, the Ancient One didn’t seem to mind. Stephen wondered if that had something to do with the fact that he was injured or if it was because Tony hadn’t antagonized her.

They went to a part of Kamar-Taj Stephen had never been before.

“These are the healing rooms,” the Ancient One said.

Stephen stopped short. They had healing rooms? Why had they never told him? He clenched his fists in rage then winced as they hurt.

“We can heal many injuries here, as long as they are recent. Once scar tissue or the like is formed the magic that we use no longer works. Your body considers your injuries healed and is no help. Repairing these require active and continual magic use.” 

She’d clearly said that for Stephen’s benefit. 

“So I’m afraid your tail and ear will have to remain as they are.”

Or maybe not.

Stephen let out the breath he was holding and relaxed his hands. That made sense. The sharp sting of betrayal faded as fast as it had come.

She and a master Stephen had never seen before helped Tony out of his clothes. Stephen stepped outside the room. Not only because he wanted to give Tony privacy but because seeing the genius’s tan, well-muscled body filled Stephen with both rage at his injuries and desire. And that was only the shirt.

Fuck. He was as hot on the outside as he was on the inside. His brain, his smart mouth, oh, god.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is a good idea. I just saw magic messing around in people’s heads. Don’t think I want a turn, thanks,” Tony said.

“Stephen, come in here,” the Ancient One called.

Swallowing thickly and trying to will the erection away, Stephen came in the room. He held his breath.

“Sit,” she said.

“Your foot,” the other master said to clarify.

With the fog in his mind from being around Tony, it took Stephen a moment to understand what was going on. He took a breath through his mouth as he bent down to remove his shoe, hoping that the others would think it was pain that was making him breathe abnormally.

Tony watched and Stephen noted that while he looked interested he seemed detached.

It made Stephen frown. 

The master hovered over Stephen’s purpling foot.

Tony sucked in a breath from between his teeth. 

Gold mist flowed from the master’s hands, caressing Stephen’s foot. It tickled at first then it felt like his foot was plunged into a warm bath.

“Oh,” Stephen gasped. He watched as the bruising change colors as his foot healed. When the magic receded Stephen felt like he’d never been injured in the first place, maybe even better.

“We don’t injure people here, Mr. Stark. And we don’t use our magic without consent. If you don’t wish for us to help we will do nothing more than sterilize and bandage your cuts.” The Ancient One hesitated for a moment to let that sink in before adding, “Of course, if you’d like we can take you to a hospital.”

“Can you do it?” Tony asked and looked to Stephen.

“I don’t know healing magic,” Stephen admitted. It would be one of the first things he’d look into once he was allowed to properly train.

Tony frowned at that before saying, “Everything except my head.”

The Ancient One and the other master nodded. Gold magic started moving over Tony’s feet.

“This will take some time. Stephen, can you go find and prepare a room for our guest? I imagine he’s exhausted and will like to sleep somewhere more comfortable,” she said.

Stephen nodded. He didn’t want to leave Tony but he was also desperate to get out of there. He left as quickly as he could, taking a detour to a restroom on the way. Seeing Tony’s injuries had only tamed the desire, it wasn’t gone. His hands hurt, but after seeing and being around Tony, after _smelling_ him… Stephen held in the moan as he relieved the pressure and washed his hands.

***

Mordo was all too happy to help him set up a room for Tony.

“But, why is he not staying with you?” he asked.

“He’s hurt, and…” Stephen wasn’t sure how Mordo would take the next bit, seeing how much he wanted them bonded but he felt it needed to be said, “...I don’t want to force anything. He needs to know what he’s getting into before we…” Stephen paused, searching for an appropriate word before giving up and saying, “... _bond_.”

Mordo shot him a knowing look and chuckled at his blush. “Yes,” he agreed, “It’s probably for the best.” A thought seemed to occur to him and he said, “But what if he doesn’t want to complete the bond? We don’t have a way to break it. Maybe, if he wasn’t your soulmate we could work it out. But... ”

Stephen didn’t have an answer. He did, however, have a favor to ask.

“Will you explain? I’m worried that if we’re together too long I…” he made a vague hand gesture to cover his loss for words (apparently his brain had gone completely offline), “...won’t be able to.”

“Of course,” Mordo said. “I don’t know if he’ll believe me though.”

Stephen shrugged. “Take him to the library or have Wong or the Ancient One talk to him.”

“I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, aus are fun. Would Tony have fallen through before the portal was closed? Maybe, he had the first time. But, he hadn’t been a cat person and Stephen wasn’t at Kamar-Taj either. So, who can say?


	10. I Guess Magic is a Thing Now - Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, unlike in the movies, Tony is _not_ immune to concussions. :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you're already aware, but I changed a bunch after having my beta, [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine), look the chapter over. I don't know why I keep doing that, it doesn't exactly help the chapter's perfection. *shrugs and makes no plans to ever change*

Tony didn’t understand what was going on. Which he could honestly say never happened to him before. Last thing he knew for sure was that he was dying in space after nuking some attacking aliens led to Earth by a Norse god, who was also an alien.

_Huh, maybe I died in Afghanistan after all._

He decided to take this new development in stride. If he wasn’t dead he needed to pay attention in case these people meant him harm. Belatedly, he realized that he’d left his suit in New York. He’d have to build a new one from scratch and this place didn’t look like it had the facilities to do so. Nor would he if they did, these people might steal the designs. Sure, the US government had a suit to study, but they hadn’t figured it out. It was a little different examining the suit as a whole and seeing the design and process. Plus, his last improvised suit had been stolen and this was a far cry from a cave in the middle of a desert.

Strange was here and that gave Tony an inkling that these people didn’t mean him harm. If this were some heaven-type afterlife he would have just fallen into bed with the man and his injuries would have magically disappeared. That wasn’t what had happened, though. Strange was keeping his distance and Tony was too beat up to try and change that.

He was lead to a room by someone called the Ancient One. They wanted him to take off his clothes for medical assistance and Tony didn’t want to. His chest was a mess on a good day and he felt like he had bruises on top of bruises. He was a superhero and even if he wasn’t, his dad had told him not to show weakness as it was quickly capitalized on. A point that was proven repeatedly throughout his life.

To try and dissuade them he said he wasn’t able to take off his clothing without help. It was possibly the stupidest thing he could have said to avoid getting medical help which led him to believe that he was indeed alive and had a concussion.

Tony watched golden light heal Strange’s foot in fascination. He did shoot a glance at the man’s hands, wincing at what he saw. Light scars marred long fingers He looked back at the glowing foot, not wanting to stare or make Strange uncomfortable. He would want the favor returned. He grimaced as he realized that he’d been the one to injure Strange’s foot in the first place. The suit was extremely heavy and Strange was lucky his bones weren’t broken. (Or, maybe they were. Would “magic” fix that too? What were the rules?)

He figured he owed it to the man to have his body healed (plus, he wanted to experience this “magic”). Still, he didn’t want them poking around in his head. He might— _might—_ have allowed Strange to do it. But he said he couldn’t and Tony wasn’t going to let anyone else near his brain.

Strange left and Tony couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or not. It was far easier to concentrate and think with him gone, his scent had muddled Tony’s senses just like it had in the office. Perhaps his concussion wasn’t as bad as he thought and it was just being around Strange that made him loopy. 

The glow did feel like it was healing him and Tony welcomed it, nodding off before the man had even gotten halfway up his thigh.

***

Tony woke up on an uncomfortable and unfamiliar bed. He groaned, he had the worst headache. The rest of him felt better than it had since Afghanistan and he was irritated that he couldn’t appreciate it.

There was a knock and Tony winced.

“May I come in?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“Sure,” Tony said. Why not? Maybe they’d give him painkillers.

“If you want, we can still heal your concussion,” the man said. When Tony didn’t say anything, he continued, “Or, I have painkillers here.”

Tony focused on the tray in front of him. There was some sort of soup, bread, water, tea and a bottle of what he assumed was Nepal's version of Tylenol. 

“Thanks,” he grunted as the man set the tray down for him. He took two of the pills and then focused on the food, wondering how much of it he could eat without getting sick. He settled for munching on the bread roll. It wouldn’t do to get too weak. The pills might turn into a mistake but that was future Tony’s problem. Current Tony thought the risk was worth it.

“My name is Mordo, I am a master of the mystic arts,” the man said, taking a seat on the floor.

“Tony Stark,” Tony said, too tired and in too much pain to bother playing any games. They’d make their demands for kidnapping him or tell him what they wanted from him sooner or later. 

They sat in silence until Tony downed another two pills.

Mordo took the bottle away from him after that with an irritated look. 

“I have been tasked with explaining why you’re here,” Mordo said.

Tony couldn’t hold in the sigh. He had hoped they’d lay off until his head didn’t hurt so much.

“What is it?” Tony didn’t have it in him to act angry or surprised. “Money? Tech? Bombs? Selling me off to the highest bidder?” He knew something bad was coming and, quite frankly, right now he didn’t care what happened to him. His head hurt too much and the constant pain he had from having the arc reactor placed was starting to come back. He would have to think his way out of this situation and he couldn’t right now. He was resigned.

Mordo made a disgusted sound. “We are sorcerers sworn to protect the Earth. We mean you and everyone else on the planet no harm.”

“Sure,” Tony said. He didn’t believe him and he was too tired to argue. _“Why did you abduct me then?”_ he thought.

“You’re too hurt to discuss this now,” Mordo sounded irritated. “I will return.”

“‘K,” Tony said, laying back on the bed and closing his eyes. He’d get some sleep, when he felt better he’d figure everything out. They weren’t going to hurt him while they were playing the “save the world” angle. 

***

When he woke there was hot soup and tea waiting on the tray that held his half-empty glass of water. The plate that once held his bread was still there and Tony distantly wondered why they hadn’t cleared it when they brought him fresh soup and tea.

The soup was bland but he felt better after eating it. When he’d finished the water he was still thirsty. He wasn’t normally a fan of tea but he had to admit this blend was nice.

He was just determining if he had the energy to get up and explore when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said after a thought. He could send them away, see if they respected his boundaries enough to come back later. But he knew he could only play the “I’m injured and currently helpless” card for so long, he should take advantage of it.

“I see you enjoyed your food,” the woman they called the Ancient One said as she came in.

“Yes, thank you,” Tony said. He knew his captors didn’t have to feed him, Yinsen and he only got the bare minimum and that was after Tony whined about not having the strength to build. Using his manners would be best in his quest to get more food in the future.

“Mordo told me you believe yourself a captive,” she said.

Tony inclined his head, inviting her to argue the point.

“I assure you we mean you no harm. In fact, we brought you here to save your life.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t say anything. Sometimes being quiet would get one more information than arguing.

“Your friends closed the portal,” she said.

The image of the giant portal, aliens invading, the feeling of cold seeping in, the sensation of not being able to breathe overwhelmed him. 

_Breathe in, breathe out._

He swallowed bile and tried to focus on something other than panic.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

She waited until he had himself more under control before continuing, “There was a chance you would have made it back through before it closed completely, but it was slim. Stephen portaled you out of space and then brought you here to have your injuries checked.

“Why?” Tony asked. He hadn’t intended to speak up, he’d wanted her to talk as long as possible but he hadn’t been able to hold himself back. She hadn’t made him feel awkward for his moment of weakness, waiting without comment for him to calm down, and he liked her for it.

“He’s formed a soul-bond with you and you need to complete it,” she answered.

Tony was expecting a lot of things but that wasn’t one of them. For one, he thought they’d make sense.

“What’s a soul-bond?” he asked. He was ninety-five percent sure he was dead or dreaming. Sorcerers, mystic arts, magic healing golden glow and now soul-bonds? Yeah, no.

He took a good look at the Ancient One. She didn’t look ancient and the whole aesthetic of this place was overblown.

“It would be easiest to show you,” she said.

“Why not?” Tony said. He was sure his tone came off as pandering. He didn’t believe anything that was happening was real. 

If the Ancient One found his attitude offensive she didn’t let on. In fact, her lips twitched into a small smile. She reached out, slowly, cautiously, as if he might bat her away. Tony stiffened, wondering if he’d made a mistake, but didn’t flinch as her hand touched his shoulder.

Tony saw inside himself. Everything was that same orange-y golden glow. He could see what the Ancient One might call his soul. It looked like a more battered older version of himself. And, more distressingly, there was a thick golden line leading out of his arc reactor-less chest. It lead out of the room, light pulsing away from him. It was like someone was pulling his soul, leaching off of it.

He could feel panic coming, cold tendrils wrapping around his body, difficulty breathing, terror at the fact that—if this was real—someone was stealing his soul.

Everything became fuzzy and with a dizzying move he found himself back in his own body, gasping for oxygen he knew was there but he couldn’t find.

“Breathe,” the Ancient One said soothingly. 

Tony tried, but his chest was locked up, his lungs weren’t working. Oh, god, he was dying!

The Ancient One put her warm hand to the side of his arc reactor with just enough pressure to distract him.

“In, out, in…” she coached, increasing and decreasing gentle pressure until he was able to take deep breaths.

“Yes, good.”

She put a warm cup of tea in his hands. It was the same temperature and blend as the tea he’d had with his soup. He drank it and it chased away the cold. She poured him another cup and Tony noticed it was from the same kettle. Deciding to test an impossible theory Tony set it aside to cool.

“What did you see?” she asked when he’d felt more in control.

Tony swallowed twice before finding his voice. 

“I have a parasite.”

She frowned. 

“I saw it,” Tony said defensively. “A golden light, pulsing with energy away from me, my _‘soul.’”_ he didn’t mean to sound so repulsed but he was dealing with nonsense. Which begged the question of why he cared so much in the first place. It wasn’t _real._

Right?

“The link is not parasitic. At least, not in the way you think,” she said.

Tony was losing patience quickly. 

She touched him, squeezing his shoulder with surprisingly strong fingers. His headache returned with a vengeance. He ground his teeth not to cry out as the pain in his chest quadrupled.

“That was me suppressing the link. The light you saw traveling away, that was your pain,” she said. With a distant look in her eyes, the pain receded.

He gasped as the power to think returned to him. He turned, glaring at her. He needed to get out of here. If this was magic—he touched the tea on the side table and it felt the same temperature, so, yes, magic a possibility—they were messing with his head. He didn’t know if he had any chance to escape whatever this was. (A coma dream, a drug-induced trip by a cult that wanted something with him, actual wizards? Something else entirely?)

They had power over him, they could cause him pain, they’d lured him into a position where he was scared and he didn’t understand what he could do to get out.

“Mordo!” she called.

The man appeared in the doorway. 

“Yes?”

“Call Stephen, please. Quickly, if you could.”

“I— Uh, I need to leave,” Tony stammered.

“Tony?” Strange appeared in the doorway looking harried.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. The doctor he’d met those years ago now calling him “Tony” instead of Mr. Stark, as if they’d had some sort of relationship since then.

Strange, or whatever this facsimile of him was, realized his mistake. “Mr. Stark?” he asked as he walked forward, his hand reaching out.

The Ancient One struck like a snake, reaching out and grabbing both of them and Tony found himself out of his body, looking down on it. When he looked up he saw Strange looking down at his body with a similarly dismayed expression. He looked up at Tony with wide eyes. 

His eyes were just as expressive as they were in that office. Tony saw surprise, a soft almost hopeful expression and then confusion, betrayal, and anger when he looked to the woman without a real name.

The link was between them, Tony could examine it more clearly now that he had both ends. The so-called soul-bond was no longer malicious or fear-inducing. He could see now that it wasn’t feeding on him, it was... healing him. The energy sent from him dissipated as it moved to Strange. It spiked when he stabbed his palm with his thumbnail. So, it sent pain down the cable and it didn’t have the energy to make it to Strange.

Or something.

Tony’s scientific mind was trying to figure it all out because, c’mon, magic wasn’t _real_. It was just science not yet understood. Still, this parallel to data packets degrading over distance convinced him the link between them was benign. He reached out and brushed his fingers against the surprisingly solid light. He felt whole for the first time in his life. Like he had somewhere he belonged.

They were returned to their bodies and Tony gasped. Being back in his body, the feeling had been ripped from him, replaced with almost painful desire. He looked up at Strange, his eyes roaming his body, taking in what he could given the loose white robes.

He wanted.

A thought flickered in his mind and he pulled away from the man he wanted to ravage.

“I have questions.”

***

Tony had learned everything he could about soul-bonds while he ignored his headache. Mordo had taken it upon himself to manage his pain medication and Tony was irritated but didn’t think he could win if he started a fight over it. He couldn’t read the books by himself, he couldn’t read Hindi or many of the other languages the books came in and translations always left a lot to be desired. And, he knew that cat people were unique and no one could explain how they’d come to be so everything he’d read may or may not be relevant to begin with.

Tony knew his father worked for SHIELD, that they experimented with things they shouldn’t. It was widely known that the military base his dad had been at the epicenter of the change. He hadn’t believed in magic, he’d always thought there was some reasonable scientific explanation for the mutation.

He had to admit that magic made a lot of sense—in a completely nonsensical sort of way.

Cat people were magical beings? Sure, why not? Aliens had just attacked led by a thirteenth-century god with a mind control stick and left with a teleportation/portal box HYDRA had used to make impossible weapons with.

Of course, if this was all magic his mind couldn’t be trusted.

“May I have a computer?” Tony asked. He needed JARVIS. JARVIS would be able to sort this out.

He was brought a tablet and he searched the news for the attack on New York. He watched interviews where he was called a hero, saw others clamor for the Avengers’s heads for the damage. How crime had spiked so much that people were actually less safe than when the aliens were rampaging.

A few keystrokes and he connected with his AI.

“Sir?” JARVIS asked, distorted by the cheap speaker.

“It’s good to hear your voice,” Tony said.

“Are you alright?” There was worry, hope, and disbelief in the AI’s voice.

“That’s why I’m contacting you. I need all this on my personal server. Secure folder, not connected to anything else.” Tony had considered this carefully and he decided that, even though it would be better for his friends to know that he was alive so they could search for him, it would be worse in the public sphere for him to be alive. People were barely tolerating the superhero’s actions as is, if they found out he was alive they’d assume he was hiding and feel betrayed. He would have JARVIS discreetly send Pepper plans so she could prepare a statement before he was found out.

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS said, though he didn’t sound happy about it. Tony thought it wasn’t because JARVIS had to check on the device to clear spyware when he requested a secure folder.

“Trace my location.”

After far too long JARVIS admitted he couldn’t. He knew Tony was in Nepal but he couldn’t find the exact location.

Just like when he traced Stephen’s email.

It was possible that his mind had been violated and that this was some dream, but Tony decided it probably wasn’t. If the magic-wielding kidnappers couldn’t remember that Strange had never called him “Tony” then they wouldn’t know the stalkerish details of his search.

People who thought themselves in love with him from watching interviews and being more or less stalkers (though Tony admitted he didn’t exactly have the high ground on that anymore) often called him Tony. A soul-bond would explain it. And if Strange had felt anything like the frustrating lust Tony had then it would honestly be weird if he didn’t slip up and call him Tony.

He told JARVIS to tell Pepper to set up a department to help clean up the city and shoulder part of the financial burden. She’d probably make a foundation or something for taxes and liability. It didn’t matter to him how it worked out as long as it helped people. He passed on that the missile was a nuke aimed at the island, not the aliens, and that there was no plan for him to sacrifice himself like they were reporting. Tony felt no need to cover for people who just wanted to use him and who, based on the news, clearly didn’t care that he was dead.

Then he noted everything he needed to add to Mark VIII. He didn’t access the plans or start any designs. There was no such thing as being overly cautious when it came to his suit.

Everything else he could think of (he knew things were missing, his brain wasn’t cooperating properly still) he told JARVIS to look into too. There was something more to the mind control stick than they’d thought at the very least.

The last thing he did was leave a detailed message about where he was being held and how they’d probably be able to find him. If JARVIS didn’t hear from him in the next month he was to send that to both Pepper and Rodey.

If these magic users were monitoring this they’d probably try to find a way to protect themselves against his plans and Tony was counting on it. The way they’d likely go about it would make it more obvious where he was. After all, if you couldn’t see something and it was there, there’d be an obvious hole to focus on. JARVIS was smart enough to figure it out.

Tony wiped the machine, which was probably a pointless endeavor but he didn’t want to make it too easy for them. 

***

Strange brought him dinner. 

Tony knew he wasn’t imagining the heat in his expression.

He ignored the food and asked, “So, how do we complete the bond?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Strange asked.

“They didn’t know,” Tony said. “They said you probably did, that you hadn’t shared any _intimate_ details.”

A blush bloomed over Strange’s cheekbones and Tony felt his mouth flood with saliva. Oh, dear _g_ _od_ , he blushed. Did he blush everywhere?

“I don’t know for sure but my guess is that you have to bite me hard enough to draw blood as I orgasm. A lot of the bonding spells involved blood and I didn’t spit out what was in my mouth.” Strange tried to say all this clinically but it was clear he was embarrassed.

“Did you know?” Tony asked. “That you were creating a bond?” he clarified before letting Strange speak. 

“No!” Strange was aghast. “It was all instinct.”

Tony nodded. He figured as much. All of Strange’s whereabouts were accounted for before his accident and it was highly unlikely he knew anything about magic until his disappearance. 

“I regret that it’s come to this,” Strange said bitterly and Tony flinched.

Of course, that made sense. Why would anyone want to tie themselves to him?

“You don’t have to,” Tony said. The fog was overcoming his mind but he ignored it. This was important.

Strange frowned at Tony like he was crazy.

“I mean...” Tony said, “Everyone thinks I’m dead anyway.”

Strange looked like he was going to be sick. “I—” He choked. “Why would you say that?!”

Tony shrugged, the move practiced to convey indifference no matter how he was feeling. He knew it worked now even though his heart was breaking. 

“It would kill you!” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” Tony argued. “The books said there were protection spells, I’m sure they’d work, even in these circumstances.”

No one ever wanted him. His money, resources, connections, body… that was normal. This—not wanting what, as far as Tony could tell, was a roll in the sheets with infinitely more benefits than a guaranteed good time and only one downside—was not.

Strange’s eyes burned bright and clear in rage and his mouth twisted to expose the tips of his fangs.

“You’re taking on all my pain. I imagine my poisoning wasn’t pleasant and, let’s face it, the rest of my life is going to be filled with injuries and near-death experiences. I am Iron Man, I’m not giving it up.” It was a perfectly logical argument. Strange could take the easy out.

Strange growled, a dangerous sound low in his throat. It was the only warning Tony got before his dinner tray was knocked over and he was tackled onto the bed.


	11. Bonding Time - Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know what's coming ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone give [LadyShine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShine) a big thanks for being a second set of eyes on this. See you in part 2!

Stephen’s rational mind snapped at the realization that Tony would treat dying so nonchalantly. He thought (hoped) that it was all an act but the sheer fact that he was willing to offer in the first place…

No.

Tony was _his._ And he was not going to let anything happen to him.

He dove for him, pushing him back onto the bed. He claimed Tony’s lips, nipping carefully before thrusting his tongue into Tony’s mouth. The stiff bristles of their facial fur caught against each other.

Something dark in his mind chanted, _“Mine, mine, mine, mine, MINE!”_

He ground his hips against Tony’s leg, his interest plain and insistent.

Tony stiffened in surprise as his back hit the bed but recovered quickly. He seemed content to let Stephen take the lead, as soon as Stephen started rubbing against him Tony raised his hips, thrusting his own erection against Stephen’s stomach.

“Clothes,” Stephen gasped. “Too many clothes!” He leaned back, pulling at his robes.

Tony must have agreed with him because he was shucking off his own shirt. His legs were pinned by Stephen’s hips and Stephen only got off of him because he needed to remove his own pants.

“Ohh,” Stephen groaned as he watched Tony wriggle out of tight pants. Tony was tan, muscles bulging, the dark coarse fur leading a trail from his belly button to his cock neatly trimmed. Once out of his pants he started on his underwear. His flushed erection bobbed as it was freed.

Stephen’s hands stilled and he made a desperate sound in the back of his throat. Tony smirked below him, raising one hand and resting it behind his head while he slid the other along his side, wrapping it around his cock and giving it a tug.

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing and the effect it was having.

Throwing his pants over his shoulder Stephen growled as he pressed his body over Tony’s. He spread his legs, pinning Tony’s thighs and thrust, grinding his erection against Tony’s. He rested on his elbows and nipped around Tony’s neck and shoulders before pressing hard with his hips and sucking a mark above the scar he’d left the last time they were together.

Tony writhed below him, his hands roaming up and down Stephen’s back before grasping his ass and squeezing. 

“What do you want?” Stephen purred into Tony’s injured ear before giving the tip of it a light nip.

“You,” Tony gasped, ear flicking as it was tickled.

Stephen hummed and sucked a mark under Tony’s jaw. “How do you want me?”

“Don’t care,” Tony said, latching onto Stephen’s collarbone and sucking a mark into it. One of his hands reached up to Stephen’s back and he dug his nails into it as Stephen thrust against him.

“Tony.” Stephen raised his hips, keeping Tony’s thighs pinned and his erection out of Tony’s reach. “What do you want?”

“You in me,” Tony answered shamelessly.

Stephen found himself blushing. “I…” Oh, he wanted that too. But, “I don’t have supplies.”

Tony let out a high pitched nasally sound of complaint. “You knew I was coming! Why didn’t you prepare?” 

“I didn’t plan on this! I was going to approach you normally but then you went and tried to kill yourself!” Stephen said angrily. He raised himself to his knees, glaring down at his partner.

“I was saving Manhattan from being nuked!” Tony argued, unperturbed by Stephen’s anger.

Then his eyes fell upon Stephen’s erection, staying there. His tongue peeked out from between his lips, moistening them.

“You want this?” he asked as he loosely stroked himself, turning Tony’s trick around on him. 

Tony’s back arched a bit and he shivered. “Yes.” He licked his lips again, slowly, looking up at Stephen with hooded eyes as his tongue retreated back into his mouth.

God, he really shouldn’t do this. They needed to use a condom. A blowjob was still sex and several STIs were transmitted orally.

But Tony looked up at him, pleading with dark eyes and biting his lip.

“Fuck,” Stephen gasped as he gave in. He climbed off Tony and they arranged themselves so Stephen was on his back, Tony settled between his legs.

Tony dragged his nose up Stephen’s length, exhaling through his mouth as he went. Apparently, he was going to make an event out of this.

Stephen raised himself up on his elbows to watch the show.

With a twinkle in his eye, Tony wrapped his hand around the base of Stephen’s erection and licked around the head. Without breaking eye contact, Tony looped his tongue around the tip before sucking it into his mouth. He took Stephen as deep as he could while safely keeping his fangs away from the sensitive organ. He hollowed his cheeks as his eyes sparkled. He was enjoying this.

Stephen threw his head back and moaned. This man was going to be the death of him.

Tony pulled off with a wet pop and licked his palm.

“Nngh,” Stephen gasped as Tony worked Stephen’s shaft, sucking roughly at the tip.

Stephen wasn’t going to last long. Tony’s scent filled the room and made Stephen dizzy. It’s been a long time since he’d had sex and he hadn’t masturbated enough to build up any sort of stamina. 

“Tony,” he moaned, a warning and encouragement all in one.

“Hmm?” Tony hummed, his mouth full.

“Tony, ah!” Stephen gasped. 

“Hmm...” Tony managed to sound smug.

Stephen let out a sound that he wouldn’t admit was a whimper as Tony started twisting his hand and rubbing his rough tongue up against the underside of Stephen’s cock.

“Tone—” Stephen warned. He tapped on Tony’s head, unable to vocalize more of a warning.

Tony pulled off at the last moment, working Stephen with his hand as he leaned forward and sunk his fangs into Stephen’s hip, jaw clamping around the protruding bone.

Stephen shouted in pain and bucked, trying to throw him off.

“Ah, uh,” Stephen whined as he became over sensitive and Tony didn’t relax his jaw or his grip.

Tony pulled his teeth free and let go of Stephen’s cock. He sighed once before licking over the wound and Stephen couldn’t help the wince. It wasn’t only because of the rough tongue against broken skin. The bite was bleeding and dark purple bruising was already forming around it. He’d have to sterilize it. Mouths were filthy and he didn’t want an infection.

Tony was sitting back on his heels, come splattered over his chin and running down his neck. Blood was on his lips and he looked dazed and sated despite his prominent erection.

Dear _god_. Stephen bit his lip and realized he was still hard. His chest was warm and his hands didn’t hurt. He felt a little dizzy.

Then Tony ran his fingers through Stephen’s come. Instead of wiping it off he stuck his glistening fingers in his mouth and sucked. His eyes rolling back as he moaned happily.

“Fuck!” Stephen tackled him, spinning and twisting so Tony’s back was pressed into the mattress. He dove for the other man’s cock. There was no finesse in his technique, he devoured Tony like a man possessed. He needed him, he needed to make him come. To feel it fill his mouth and shoot down his throat.

“Jesus Christ!” Tony shouted, his hand tangling in Stephen’s fur, tugging lightly on his ear.

“Yes! Yes! Like that! Oh!” Tony shouted as his head thrashed, his legs sliding against the sheets, the part of his tail that was free twitched in random directions. He didn’t press Stephen’s head down, only tugging to get him to back off or change the angle but mostly just holding on for dear life.

Stephen did have to hold Tony’s hip in place with one hand while he held his cock in the other. He didn’t have the grip to work him like he wanted but his hands didn’t hurt no matter how much pressure he put on them.

Tony’s hand yanked at Stephen’s hair as his cock stiffened and swelled in Stephen’s mouth. Stephen sucked hard.

“AaaaahhhhhhaaaAA! Jesus, fuck!” Tony screamed as he came.

Stephen closed his eyes and hummed happily as he swallowed everything down.

“Oh…” Tony sagged into the mattress, his body going limp and his hand falling off Stephen’s head. 

When Stephen looked up Tony was blinking blearily at him, face, neck, and chest flushed, mouth open as he tried to catch his breath.

Stephen hadn’t ever seen anything more beautiful. He raised himself onto his knees and shimmied forward. He worked his cock, his grip awkward but not painful. There was no finesse, no teasing or making a show, just a race to find some relief. He came over Tony’s stomach a dollop landing on the base of the arc reactor, stripes down his abs and drips falling onto Tony’s soft cock, marking him.

He looked down, seeing Tony’s body glistening with sweat, semen drying on his neck while more pooled in his belly button. The dark thing in Stephen’s chest purred happily and he felt himself sag, exhaustion overcoming him.

The bed really wasn’t big enough for two but he didn’t care. He wrapped his body around Tony’s noting that the other man was already asleep. With one leg thrown over both of Tony’s and one arm wrapped around Tony’s chest to hide the light he was sure he’d get used to soon, Stephen closed his eyes. After a kiss to Tony’s shoulder, he allowed sleep to overcome him.

***

When Stephen woke, he was alone in the bed. He shot up, alarmed. Had Tony decided to leave? Stephen could feel their bond was complete and that there was something else there too. Whatever it was it was too new to get a clear read on.

“Tony?” he called out on the off chance that the man was nearby.

There was no answer and Stephen had to hold himself in check. He wanted to storm Kamar-Taj, find his soulmate (and, yes, he’d decided that was a proper term now that he felt the complete connection) and drag him back to the bedroom. Check his body all over for foreign scents and claim him again. And again. And again.

God, this was so messed up.

He knew he was being unreasonably possessive and the consent in this situation was iffy at best. It wasn’t quite fuck-or-die (they would have figured something out eventually) but there was considerable pressure that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Never mind the scents that got them in this position in the first place. None of this was ok.

Stephen put his head in his hands. He wouldn’t be surprised if Tony wanted nothing to do with him after this. He’d need to respect that. He couldn’t force anything. His possessiveness had gotten him in trouble in the past and it wasn’t healthy. 

After a long moment, he decided that sitting and wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to solve anything. If Tony was here they could talk, maybe see about going on a date or starting a real relationship. Stephen had admitted long ago that the so-called merchant of death had changed and was trying his best. It was all anyone could do. And even when he was dying he didn’t give up. That was admirable. 

It was clear that the show Tony put on in front of the cameras now was just that, a show. He wasn’t the person he was before, he held himself accountable and was focused on helping people instead of making money. The media might not see it, but Tony Stark sacrificed himself to save the world. The suit was more than able to get clear of the worst of the blast radius. He could have let everyone die and saved himself.

He didn’t.

Stephen wanted to get to know him. To learn why he hadn’t just sent the suit with him out of it. To keep him from doing something so self-sacrificing again. He didn’t want Iron Man out there alone.

Tony came back to the room holding a tablet and arguing with a woman.

“What do you want me to do about it? I’m in Nepal! I can’t just magically appear in New York.”

“Well, how did you get there?” she asked.

Stephen raised his finger and opened his mouth to say that he could magic Tony back but Tony shot him a look.

“I told you, I don’t know. I lost consciousness in space and woke up half-way across the world. There was some sort of portal.”

Stephen was impressed. Technically, Tony wasn’t lying.

“When are you coming back? We need to do a press conference. Your company is in chaos.”

“You’re the CEO.”

The woman didn’t answer.

Tony sighed and Stephen knew he wasn’t imagining the exhaustion in the action. Tony’s whole body sagged before he shook himself and said, “They’re not going to let me do a video conference, are they?”

Once again, there was no response.

So, that was a no.

“I’m probably fine to fly. I’m mostly healed up, the people here took good care of me. I might still have a concussion though,” Tony said. 

“I didn’t hear that last bit,” the woman said. “You said you’re feeling better and the people over there took good care of you and that you’re free to do a press conference as soon as your plane lands?” It was worded as a question but he knew it wasn’t intended as one.

Stephen bit his tongue. Didn’t this woman know how serious concussions were? Didn’t she care?

“As long as it’s _my_ plane,” Tony said. He still sounded tired but he was smiling a bit.

“I think it would play better if you flew commercial,” she said. “People will say you took the jet out there and we were hiding you on it. If you just show up at the airport there’ll be fewer fires to put out.”

“Fine. But if you put me in coach I’ll fire you,” Tony said.

Stephen was pretty sure it wasn’t an idle threat.

“Relax, I wouldn’t do that to you,” she said and it sounded like she was smiling.

“Again,” Tony said flatly.

“Again,” she agreed cheerfully. “And I’ll see what I can do about getting your jet at one of the connecting airports.”

“Thanks, Pep,” Tony said.

“I’ll call as soon as everything is set up. Catch up on the news in the meantime. I get the feeling you haven’t seen the latest. I’ll send you the notes for the press conference as soon as you’re on a secure computer.”

“Sounds good.”

The call ended and Stephen was about to say something when someone else spoke.

“I’m glad everything is settled.”

“I can’t believe you ratted me out, J,” Tony said. “I told you I was fine.”

“You’re clearly not fine if you think you have a concussion. And, you put back up plans in place so you weren’t sure you were safe.”

“I’m just trying to be more responsible!” Tony sounded exasperated. 

“So you see why I was worried,” the man said wryly.

“Anything I should know?” Tony asked after chuckling. 

Stephen could see that Tony trusted whoever was on the other end of that call. He froze, wondering if it was a boyfriend.

“Sending you the relevant information now,” the man said.

“Thanks, it sounds like I’ll be home soon. Try to keep DUM-E and U from wrecking my lab, will you?”

“Of course, Sir. They’ll be happy to know you’re ok.”

Tony smiled softly.

“Be home soon,” Tony promised, and instead of looking tired he looked happy.

Stephen tried not to let it get to him.

That call ended and Stephen waited until Tony set the tablet down to speak. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t someone else on the line.

“Who was that?” he asked. Then he winced. It came out more accusatory than he intended.

Tony didn’t look offended though, he just smiled confidently. “Who? The woman?”

Stephen tried not to say, _“No, the man you’re so familiar with!”_ It was a losing battle and thankfully Tony spoke before he did.

“That was Pepper, she runs Stark Industries for me.” More to himself he continued, “Well, that and basically everything else.”

“The one you were dating?” Stephen bit out without meaning to. He tried to ignore the gossip rags when he checked out Tony’s exploits but he was weak.

“Why? Are you jealous?” Tony smirked. He didn’t leave Stephen to squirm, though. “Nah, we never dated. I thought about it but then I met you and after that, no one smelled right.”

Stephen breathed a sigh of relief. He knew it wasn’t good, if Tony liked her and their meeting ruined it... Tony hadn’t had a choice in any of that. 

“And the man?” Stephen asked.

“That’s JARVIS, he runs everything Pepper doesn’t.”

JARVIS called Tony sir so he was probably his assistant now that Pepper was CEO. 

“Is there anyone else?” Stephen asked. He wasn’t trying to be subtle anymore, he’d lost that battle.

“There could be,” Tony said. He looked Stephen up and down and licked his lips.

Stephen felt a thrill go down his spine. So, Tony wasn’t mad at him and they were about to use the bed again. 

Before this went any further, Stephen had to know, “Can I call you when you get back to New York?” If this was just one last fling before Tony went back to his life he wanted to know. It wouldn’t really change anything, Stephen was all for sleeping with Tony again. It was just to soothe him so he could focus on Tony instead of consumed with worry that this was the last time they’d see each other.

“I don’t think you have to call,” Tony said. Before Stephen could react Tony continued, “I mean, you can just portal into my bedroom, right?”

Stephen’s heart soared and sank at the same time. So he did want to see him again but he only wanted to be fuck buddies? Well, it could be worse. 

“Yes, I’d want to make sure you were home and alone first, though.” Stephen didn’t want to assume that they were in a relationship or that they were exclusive. He hoped Tony would take the hint and clue him in.

Tony seemed to mull that over.

“And, you know, I might want something other than Kamar-Taj food every once in a while. It’s never fun to eat alone.” Stephen held his breath. He hadn’t meant to say that. Saying that was a risk. Tony had already said he was down for sex, now Stephen was pushing for more and he hadn’t even found out if Tony wanted to sleep with other people. It might blow up in his face, Tony might be uncomfortable and tell him to stay away. But, Stephen wanted more and since he already felt like he’d manipulated Tony enough he wanted to be upfront. He needed—and wanted—to do this right. 

Tony smiled. It wasn’t soft but it was genuine. “I just might know a place or two you’d like.” Tony rummaged around in the bag Stephen had packed for him and handed over a business card out of a pocket Stephen hadn’t noticed.

“Thanks, Tony,” Stephen said, taking the card reverently.

“Call me, Strange,” Tony said with a wink.

“Stephen,” Stephen said. He felt himself blush. Their souls were connected and yet they didn’t know each other at all.

“Stephen,” Tony said with a grin.

The tablet Tony had brought with him pinged and Tony frowned at the message.

“Pepper booked me on a flight four hours from now but she said I should leave as early as possible. She gave me some information about how to go around the fact that I don’t have my passport.”

“That was fast,” Stephen said. He was disappointed. He had hoped to have another day with Tony.

“The Ancient One offered to portal me to the airport.”

Stephen nodded. He didn’t know what to say. If Tony had already spoken to the Ancient One he’d been planning on leaving as soon as possible anyway.

Tony seemed to be at a loss as well. He gathered his things and then paused. “I…” he trailed off.

“I’ll call you,” Stephen promised and kissed Tony on the cheek. They could do that. They were dating, right?

Tony cheered up. “Looking forward to it.”

Stephen accompanied Tony to the Ancient One, smiled when Tony asked if he could take the tablet and offered to replace it and said, “Get you some real tech, since you saved my life and all.” The Ancient One chuckled and said she was looking forward to seeing him again with a mischievous look in her eyes.

As Tony walked through the portal Stephen held himself in place through sheer force of will. He desperately wanted to follow. When the portal closed Stephen felt like part of himself had been ripped away even though he could still feel a bit of Tony with him.

“Why are you still wearing white?” the Ancient One asked Stephen. “Go change and seek out Master Kaecilius. He’ll start training you on simple spells. Tell him to start with a silencing one. I have a feeling it will be useful in your future.”

Stephen’s cheeks flamed as he left but not with just embarrassment. If the Ancient One thought that Tony would be… _being loud_ with Stephen in the future it meant he’d see him again. Pleasure and hope made him flush too. 

He couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we’ve come to the end of part one. Tony and Stephen are bonded! Yay! Part two will be them building a relationship while facing the unique challenges their hero-ing presents. I haven’t written it yet and there’s another story I need to finish before I can start it. Subscribe to me or the series for notifications.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on Twitter @GizmoTrinket221 and more infrequently on Tumblr @TheArtOne. If you have any very special requests you know how to reach me now.


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